The View of A Victor Boy: Catching Fire
by BRIGHTSIDEash
Summary: Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View.
1. Chapter 1

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Here it is, folks! I'm back again, with Catching Fire!_

Chapter One.

_"Stop! Stop!" A familiar frantic voice booms in my head. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – the tributes of District Twelve!" I spit out the berry that I was so close to swallowing, turning on my heels to look at Katniss with a relieved smile on my lips. My smile falters, because Katniss' face is frozen in shock, her lips a dark red from crushed berries. There are no berries in her hand. I pull her down to the lake, cupping water in my hand to wash out her mouth._

"_Come on Katniss, spit them out!" I almost shout at her. She shakes her head, blinking up at me._

"_It's too late, Peeta." She mutters. I shake my head in frustration, gathering more water. Katniss collapses, her body crumpling in my arms. I try to shake her awake, but it is no use. She is unmoving, no beat in her chest. I cradle her as the tears form._

I startle awake with a gasp and Katniss' name on my lips. I glance around me in a panic, but I am in my own bed, in the Victor's Village. And Katniss is in the house beside mine, safe and alive. I fall back onto my pillows, waiting for my heart to stop pounding against my chest. _Just another nightmare._ I have different nightmares, but this is the one that is recurring, that keeps coming back to haunt me. Sometimes my nightmares are of the mutations from the arena bounding towards me with bloodlust in their human eyes and a snarl from their not human mouths. Sometimes I watch my family die in different ways, sometimes I am attending Katniss and Gale's wedding. But mostly in my nightmares, I watch Katniss die and am always too late to save her.

Once I've calmed down, I roll out of the bed and strap on my left leg, making my way down the hall. There's a breeze from my open window, and the moon light streaming in makes it easy to maneuver my way to the door. I turn the light on in the last room of the hallway, surrounded by scenes of my nightmares on canvases of different sizes. There's one half painted in the middle of the room, propped up on the easel. I sit on the stool in front of it and uncover my paints, dipping a paintbrush in the purple and creating small strokes across the canvas.

When I finally pull back from the finished product, sunlight is already filling the room and setting a new light on all of the scenes before me. I step back to look at the one I had just finished. Female, dirty hands cupped together to hold a handful of berries. Simple, but a reminder. She didn't die. She is alive and well. Maybe now the nightmare will stop haunting my sleep. I run a hand through my hair, but recognize too late that my hand is covered in wet paint, which is now streaked through my dirty blonde hair. I leave the painting to dry and wash the brushes in the bathroom, where I also run a bath.

The Victor's village isn't as grand as the Capitol, but at least there's running water. I soak in the bath for a while, body still tense from the nightmare I had suffered. I don't remember a day when I hadn't felt tense ever since returning from the Games. I had been under the illusion that everything would be better once returning, until Katniss' had revealed her true feelings. I rinse my face, trying to rinse away the memories. Of course it's no use and I can still picture her perfectly, clutching at the dull flowers I had picked for her, avoiding my gaze. The memories are always there.

I had pretty much perfected moving in and out of the tub without my left leg, although I have yet to perfect walking on the metal contraption. I dress myself and leave the house, making my way to the town as District Twelve wakes up. Snow has begun to fall and I have to pull my wool jacket tighter around me to keep the cold at bay. There are sacks of flour already waiting by the door of the Bakery, the delivery man been and gone. I hoist the first sack of my shoulder and carry it inside, where my father and mother have already started the baking.

"Good morning, son." I smile at my father, and then again at my mother. She nods curtly in my direction. Amazingly, my victorious return from the Games hadn't warmed her heart. Often, I find her eyeing up my left leg and the gait in my walk. There was one time when I thought I had seen the glistening of tears in her eyes, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. I know that there is some resentment, because I had revealed to the whole of Panem that my mother hadn't exactly been my father's first choice. My mother is a very proud woman, and embarrassing her like that is something she is having trouble forgiving.

"Morning. Where's Gareth and Lukail?" I ask, keeping my tone pleasant.

"Lukail is with _that woman_," my mother snarls in distaste. I have to suppress the smile that twitched across my lips, because I knew exactly who the woman was. Lukail had been getting romantically involved with a young woman from the Seam, which my mother obviously disapproved of greatly. But I'm certain Lukail is very serious about this woman, especially if he's staying over the night. My father crosses to where I am, enveloping me in a brief hug.

"Gareth is still in bed." He explains, planting his hands firmly on my shoulders and looking me square in the face. I know what he sees. Dark circles under my eyes, the strain in my expression, my tight smile. His face softens in concern. "Nightmares again?" he asks softly.

"Yeah." I mumble. "They've gotten worse the past week. Tomorrow's the start of the tour," I sigh heavily and my father nods in understanding. I bring in the rest of the sacks of flour and start on my icing. Without the bakery, I wouldn't have much to do with my days so I often dropped by to help out in the morning. Sometimes, I stay all day and it's just like before the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games, before I became a Victor.

The Victor's Tour. A train ride across Panem to remind the other Districts who had won, to remind us all that the Games never go away. It also means being in close proximity with Katniss again, which I have mixed feelings about. Ever since the cameras had been packed away and sent back to the Capitol, any kind of relationship or friendship I had had with Katniss had frozen. We hadn't had any kind of real conversation, just forced sentences when in the company of one another. But the whole of Panem will be expecting us to hold hands and kiss sweetly, because the whole of Panem aren't aware that our romance was a fake. Katniss had made me a pawn in her survival of the Games, and I had fallen for it because I had wanted to believe so badly. The thoughts still formed a tight lump in my throat and made my body tense in anger. I wonder when the whole farce will be over.

Perhaps in a year or two when they realise we don't even talk to one another and there are no plans of marriage. _When she marries her so called cousin_, I push the angry, poisonous thought from my mind. Tomorrow, Portia and the others will be arriving to preen me and dress me once again. In a away, I realise that I'm kind of looking forward to seeing Portia, as we hadn't had much contact since my return to the District. There had been a few phone calls in the past month, mainly of Portia telling me how excited she is to see me again and how excited she is to see my paintings. I have a feeling she might not be so excited when she finally sees them, because they are all dark subjects. The content of my nightmares.

I stay at the bakery most of the day and serve at the counter, since my father's joints are giving him trouble and my mother is busy by the oven. The day passes in quite a blur and by the time I've left with two loaves under my arm, there's already a few inches of snow on the ground. I limp back towards the Victor's Village, wanting to get back to the warmth of the fire before the snow gets any heavier. I also want to sleep.

I set the loaves down on the kitchen counter, slicing some off the end of one and covering it in goat's cheese, making myself some tea to go along with it. I sit by the fire for a long while, cradling the hot cup in my hands and drinking the tea slowly. Eventually, I fall asleep.

I wake in the morning, the embers in the fire already burnt out. The only indication it had been lit is the small wisp of smoke finding its way up the chimney. For a while I stay where I am, staring ahead of me in wonder. It's the first night in weeks I had gone without a major nightmare. I don't even remember what I had been dreaming about, if I had dreamt at all. I get out of the armchair, working the stiffness out of my body and the kink in my neck. Not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep. I almost fall forward when I step onto my left leg, but manage to catch myself on the arm of the chair.

Sometimes, I forget I have a fake leg. It seems like to kind of thing one would always remember, but I've found it's quite easy to try and walk, only to find myself hindered by the metal strapped to my half a leg. Especially when I'm groggy. I sigh heavily and stretch it out, before stepping on the leg carefully.

On the way out of the house I pick up the loaf of bread that I hadn't started to eat myself and take it to Haymitch's house. It's snowing again, and the air is still cold. I have a constant worry that the metal of my fake leg is going to freeze over and I'll be stuck, nearly helpless. With my hand on the door, I steel myself for the stench inside. The first time I had entered Haymitch's house, I had thrown up. The man never tidies up and leaves his rubbish where he drops it, I have no idea how long all of it has been laying in the house but I'm sure there's a lot of it is moldy. I had tried tidying up a few times, but Haymitch always finds out and makes a slur of profanities at me until I leave.

I immediately head for the kitchen, but notice the smell of coffee in the air. Amazing how I'm able to smell it through everything else rotten. I wade through the rubbish and head her voice as I near the door. I freeze for a moment, clutching the load of bread in my hand. Okay, no need to panic. We'd done this plenty of times. The formal conversation, the stiff looks. I head through the door, just as she says my name.

"Asked me what?" I ask making my way to the table, where Haymitch looks dazed and hung-over. I put the loaf of bread on the table and hold my hand out to Haymitch expectantly, knowing he'll have the knife at his side as per usual.

"Asked you to wake me without giving me pneumonia," Haymitch mutters as he passes me the knife. I notice the water dripping from his hair and running down his face. I allow myself a smile, picking up some of Haymtich's white liquor to clean the knife. I trust nothing in this house to be clean, except the man's alcohol. I wipe the knife with the tail of my shirt and begin slicing off some of the bread. I hand the knife back to Haymitch, noticing Katniss out of the corner of the eye. I make myself look at her, ignoring the grey eyes that could lock me down in an instant, the blush on her cheeks that I'm sure is from the cold, the soft lips that I've kissed plenty of times and find myself missing every so often.

"Would you like a piece?" I ask.

"No, I ate at the Hob," she replies in the stiff, formal tone we use with one another now. "But thank you." She adds.

"You're welcome." Again, the stiff and formal tone. No hint of the moments we had once shared in a cave.

"Brrr. You two have got a lot of warming up to do before show time." Haymitch adds in. I avoid looking at either of them, spreading butter over the slices of bread.

"Take a bath, Haymitch." Katniss says, jumping out of the window and landing nimbly on the ground. I throw some slices of bread down on the table in front of Haymitch, and notice him staring at me. When I turn to him, he raises his eyebrows.

"Do not say a word." I say slowly, biting into my bread. He opens his mouth, looking like he's about to say something. "Not. A. Word." I repeat, pointing my finger at him. He raises his hands in surrender, picking up his breakfast and biting into it. We finish our breakfast in silence; Haymitch giving me pointed glances every now and then. I dump a large cup of strong coffee in front of him.

"Drink this. Have a bath. Everyone will be here soon." I say sternly.

"How lucky I am to have two kids looking after me," he mutters into the murky depths of coffee. I ignore his sarcasm. It was odd, our almost friendship. It had taken me a couple of weeks to actually come round and see Haymitch, after knowing he had helped Katniss cook up a plan. Eventually, I came to my senses. He hadn't been doing it to spite me; he had been doing it to keep up both alive. I could hardly stay mad, when I had attempted to plan with Haymitch to keep Katniss alive. So I forgave Haymitch, and I forgave Katniss. Except I couldn't bring myself to talk to Katniss about it, it was like the years before the Reaping all over again.

"Right, I'm going to get ready. I'll see you later," I call as I leave the house, hoping he doesn't fall asleep. I'd been visiting Haymitch most days, taking him some fresh bread every so often as a change from the rubbish he eats. Katniss also takes him fresh meat, and together we seem to be boosting his diet. I had considered trying to wean him from the alcohol, until the one time he had run out of alcohol. He had spent the day cowered in the corner of his bedroom, arms over his head as he screamed at things that I couldn't see. It had been terrifying, and an experience that I never wanted to repeat again.

I step into the house and light the fire again, to warm the house for when Portia and the others arrive. I set some cookies and others foods out in the kitchen for them to pick up, knowing that there will be a bunch of people arriving with cameras and lights and all kinds of technical equipment that requires a lot of manpower. The filming of my interview will be set up in my painting room upstairs, rather than bringing the paintings downstairs. Once everything is ready I run myself a bath and dip into the almost scorching water. I allow myself to relax now, before the Prep team arrives with their months' worth of chatter, before the cameras are trust upon us once again, before I have to pretend I'm in love with Katniss.

I've only just hopped out of the tub and strapped my leg back on when they arrive. They don't bother knocking or waiting for me to reach the door, within minutes the three cheerful, oddly colored and oddly dressed people who make up my Prep team burst into the bathroom.

"Hello, handsome!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Don't be afraid to message me with a one shot request! This isn't that great of a chapter, so I apologise in advance. _

Chapter Two

"Your hair! Have you not had it cut since we parted?"

"Look at those nails! I think I'll have just enough time to perfect them."

"Oh! I see you've bulked up again, you look much better!"

It goes on and on. An onslaught of excited talk of how I look, how they'll prepare me for the cameras, the tour I'm about to embark on, the Quarter Quell. Surprisingly, I find I quite enjoy it compared to the silence that had been in my house a lot of the time.

"Do you live in this house on your own?" I nod my head my head in an answer.

"Yes. Sometimes my brothers stay over, but everyone's busy with the bakery today." I tell them, which isn't entirely true. My brothers had offered to come to the house for Interviews and support, but I had told them to stay back at the bakery with our parents. I'm not sure why, but I don't want them here in all of this. I have an odd feeling that everything is all extremely complicated and messed up. I go downstairs to meet Portia with my hair cut, my skin scrubbed, my face shaved and my nails manicured. Portia is standing in my living room, nibbling on a decorated cookie.

"Portia," I smile warmly and she turns to me with a similar smile on her lips. We cross the room and embrace one another like friends. Haymitch walks through the door and glances at us briefly, then falling onto the sofa with a sigh.

"What a lovely scene!" He laughs, and there's a heavy smell of alcohol on his breath, as expected. Portia and I ignore him.

"Your clothes are over there on the chair, get dressed quickly! The cameras are all set up upstairs, and they're ready to start rolling as soon as you're ready." I pick the clothes up and slip them on. Quite simple clothing today, just some black trousers and a white shirt, but the material is lined with something that keeps me warm. "I saw your paintings, and they are so wonderful, Peeta." Portia gushes and I smile, quite surprised. I thought she would have hated them, just like I do.

"Thank you. I painted them from my nightmares," I say, and there's an audible gasp behind me.

"Oh..." Portia falters, seemingly unsure what to say. "Well, perhaps that's something you shouldn't say on camera." She forces a chuckle and I nod my head in agreement, fastening the buttons of my shirt.

Once she sees I'm dressed, Portia ushers me up to my painting room and I imagine my invisible sack of flour, plaster the smile on my face. Time for the act to begin. The cameras follow me around as I show them my paintings, more of the less violent ones I had done. I keep my voice pleasant as I pick up paintings and grin at the camera. They comment on how there are a lot with Katniss in them, so of course I have to gush about my love for her and the like. It doesn't take too long and the cameras are unplugged and moved. They want to televise Katniss and I meeting one another at the beginning of the tour. They want to televise everything.

Haymitch and Portia are waiting for me in the living room, Portia holding out a jacket for me. I shrug it on and allow her to wrap the scarf around my neck. Haymitch pats me on the shoulder.

"Remember to smile, you're about to see the girl you're madly in love with," he says and I clench my jaw.

"Thank you Haymitch, but there's no need to coach me how to act in love," I tell him through my gritted teeth. Something flickers in his eyes but he nods his head and steps back. I half regret saying the words, but I guess I still harbour some resentment over the whole matter of Haymitch and Katniss deceiving me. I step out into the snow, but it's coming down hard now and seeing ahead of me is difficult. I step out, the snow crunching underneath my one real and my one fake foot.

And there she is. Walking towards me, and I think I see a smile on her face. That's nice. I haven't seen Katniss smile many times since our return, especially not in my direction. It actually thaws some of the frost of my own feelings, and I manage the smile that the cameras are used to. Suddenly, Katniss breaks into a run, still heading for me. She jumps into my arms and the force of her body pushes me back. My left leg slips in the snow and we both fall backwards, Katniss still enclosed in my arms. Then we kiss, and it's a confusing kiss that sets my heart racing and has me tightening my arms around her to pull her to me. There's fur and snowflakes getting in the way, and I'm sure I taste the odd, bitter lipstick on her lips. The Capitol expect us to be in love, and so that is how we act. But I don't know if it's all an act. Everything is so confusing.

Before I can even catch up with the hours, we're on the train and leaving the station. Haymitch, Effie, Portia, Katniss, the Prep teams and I. We enjoy a meal and then everybody is off to their rooms to ready themselves for bed, but Portia and I hang back. We decide to go to the sitting room, curling up on the sofas opposite one another, and for a while we enjoy the silence. I realise that Portia is possibly the only real friend I have on this trip.

"How are you doing, Peeta?" She asks me and I look up at her properly, and I don't even see the Capitol of her any more. I only see the woman who dressed me to impress the whole of Panem, the woman who was there before the Games to help me through, the woman who bandaged my hands, and the woman who was there when my leg was amputated. The train stops so they can fill up on fuel.

"I don't know," I answer her honestly, running my now manicured fingers through my new cut hair. "It's all been so … tense. Ever since the train ride back," I say and she nods in understanding.

"I was once in love, you know," Portia muses with the hint of a smile on her yellow painted lips. I raise my eyebrows in questions, and she continues on. "His name was Klaustica, and he was so very handsome. We were together a long time, so long that everyone thought we were going to get married and grow old together. This was back in school, of course." She takes a sip of her tea and I frown across at her.

"What happened?"

"Oh, he got a new job and a new woman. Some secretary of his, and they fell so in love, and he couldn't be without her." Portia gives a wave of her hand as if it doesn't matter, but I can see that it does.

"Well, there's something we have in common I guess." She looks at me with a questioning expression.

"We both had our hearts broken." I then frown down at my hands for a moment, eventually looking back up at her. "Do you think I'll be all right? That I'll … be able to move on?" I ask, because surely I can't be hung up on the same girl forever. Portia gets to her feet and crosses to me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I think we should go to bed," my stomach drops, because she avoids answering my question. I don't argue with her, and wander to my own room. I pause at one of the windows, looking out to where the silhouettes of Katniss and Haymitch are outside talking in the snow. _More secrets?_ I swallow my bitterness and lock myself in my room. After stripping down and unstrapping my leg, I roll into the bed and make an attempt at sleep.

I must have eventually fallen into a slumber, because Portia is shaking me awake. I blink up at her through heavy eyes and groan.

"No, go away." I mutter, covering my face with my pillow.

"Get up, get dressed. It's almost dinner time!" She says in her usual chipper tone. I frown and glance at her again.

"It is? Why didn't you wake me before?" I ask. Portia tuts, pulling the pillow away from my face.

"There was no need to, we'll mostly be travelling today." I sigh and sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I see her eyes wander to my artificial leg sitting beside my bed, the conflict evident in her expression. Deciding whether or not she should try and help me, when she doesn't want to touch it. I can't say I blame her, and I'm used to the looks people give me when they either find out, or see it.

"It's okay, I don't need help." I quirk an eyebrow at her and she nods, looking relieved.

"Well, I'll see you at dinner." Her cheer returns to her voice and I nod. I manage to manoeuvre across the room with the cane I had brought with me. I step gratefully into the hot shower, wondering what the chances would be of getting a shower installed into my home back in the Victor's Village. Once I'm all strapped in and dressed, I make my way to dinner. Katniss isn't there at first but joins us a few minutes in, and I can tell that her Prep team have been preening her that morning. I feel quite smug that I had been allowed to sleep in.

The dinner is quite pleasant, and everybody is talking together, except a hungover Haymitch and a quiet Katniss. Others continuously try to get her to join in but she remains stubborn and sullen. I join in the conversation as much as I can, trying to keep up my spirits.

_This is going to be a long Tour._ Just as the thought enters my mind the train stops, and somebody reports to us that part of the train has malfunctioned. Of course, Effie gets quite hysterical and is trying to solve how much this will affect our schedule.

"No one cares, Effie!" Katniss suddenly snaps, making us all stop and stare at her. She isn't exactly one for such outbursts, and to attack Effie in such a manner seems to shock us all. Katniss looks around us all, "well, no one does!" She huffs and gets up to leave. Effie just stares after her, a dainty covering her mouth and her eyes wide in surprise and hurt.

Cinna starts to rise from his chair but I stand and shake my head. "It's okay, I'll go." Nobody says anything, and I wonder what they're thinking. I'm certain they all know about Katniss and I, or rather that there is no Katniss and I. I step out of the dinging room and hear the alarm going off, and the open door. I follow Katniss outside, where there is no snow on the ground, meaning we have travelled quite a way. I see her a little ways in the distance, falling into a sitting position. I head off in the direction, and when I'm close by she speaks without even looking at me. Obviously expecting someone else.

"I'm not in the mood for a lecture," she says.

"I'll try to keep it brief." I answer as I carefully sit down beside her.

"I thought you were Haymitch."

"No, he's still working on that muffin." I have to move my fake leg into a more comfortable position. "Bad day, huh?"

"It's nothing," she instantly replies. My mood slumps a little. Of course she isn't willing to talk to me. I take a deep breath to calm my thoughts.

"Look, Katniss, I've been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train. I mean, the last train. The one that brought us home. I knew you had something with Gale." As much as I don't want to admit it. "I was jealous of him before I even officially met you. And it wasn't fair to hold you to anything that happened in the Games. I'm sorry." I tell her. Thoughts that had been running through my mind, mixing in with all the hurt, anger, jealousy.

"I'm sorry, too." She replies, and I wonder what for.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive. But I don't want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and falling into the snow every time there's a camera around. So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at being just friends." Just friends, I'm sure I can handle that. I just have to push all those other feelings to the back burner. Easy.

"Okay," Katniss says.

"So what's wrong?" She doesn't answer, picks at some grass. I try again. "Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine … but I don't know what your favourite colour is?" Getting to know one another a bit more, something friends do. She actually smiles at my question.

"Green. What's yours?"

"Orange," I reply.

"Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I grimace a little.

"A bit more muted. More like … sunset." I say, picturing the scene in my head. It's a peaceful, settling scene of soft colours.

"You know, everyone's always raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven't seen them."

"Well, I've got a whole train car full," I answer, because Portia had insisted we bring some along. I stand up and offer out my hand to Katniss. "Come on." She takes my hand and our fingers interlock immediately, and it feels nice. We walk back to the train with our hands clasped together. As we reach the door, Katniss remembers her outburst.

"I've got to apologise to Effie first," she says and I nod, with a slight smile.

"Don't be afraid to lay it on thick." We return to the dinner car, and Katniss does a grand job in apologising to Effie. Of course, Effie accepts the apology, managing to fit in a few minutes lecture of how someone must attend to the schedule. I lead Katniss to the room with my paintings, stepping back as she steps forward to take them in. I keep my gaze on her back.

"What do you think?"

"I hate them," she replies and I'm not surprised. They're all of the games, and no doubt bring up all of the terrible memories for Katniss like they do for me. "All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you've brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?" She asks, turning to look at me.

"I see them every night." _And then I wake and paint them, in the hopes they'll go away._

"Me, too." Katniss admits, and I look at her fully. Again, it's not surprising. "Does it help? To paint them out?" It's a complicated question.

"I don't know. I think I'm a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am. But they haven't gone anywhere." Always waiting for me.

"Maybe they won't. Haymitch's haven't." The thought doesn't fill me with joy.

"No. But for me, it's better to wake up with a paintbrush than a knife in my hand," I pause. "So you really hate them?" It still hurts a little, even though I understand.

"Yes. But they're extraordinary. Really." She turns away from the paintings fully. "Want to see my talent? Cinna did a great job on it." Katniss says, and I laugh.

"Later." The train starts up again, but I manage to keep on my feet. "Come on, we're almost at District Eleven. Let's go take a look at it."

We sit in the last car, where the view is best. The train slows as we reach District Eleven and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. There are fences ten metres tall, with towers of armed guards. It makes me suddenly glad to live in Twelve, where the electric fence is never turned on and the Peacekeepers greet everyone in a friendly manner.

"That's something different," I comment. Katniss doesn't answer and I wonder if she's thinking of little Rue, who had once lived here. We keep our attention on the District passing by. It seems to carry on for a lifetime, a lot larger than the size of District Twelve. "How many people do you think live here?" Katniss just shakes her head in response. We sit in silence for a while longer, and then Effie comes in and tells us to get dressed. We both return to our rooms.

Portia is waiting with the Prep team and I go into my usual quiet, let them do what they wish mode. They begin glooping my hair, shaving the few bristles from my chin that have started to sprout, and dress me in black trousers and a soft, orange shirt. It reminds me of telling Katniss about my favourite colour, and for a moment I wish they'd chosen a green one. I push the thought aside, because I'm not supposed to be dressing in Katniss' favourite colours and trying to impress her. We're just friends. They don't give me large, clumpy boots like when I had been prepared for the Games. Rather, some sturdy plain shoes.

I return to where Katniss and Effie are waiting, and listen intently to the plan that Effie has produced, with timing and all. It's then time to make our appearance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

Chapter Three

When we step off the train, we're greeted by eight Peacekeepers, who silently lead us into an armoured truck. Not exactly the most gracious of welcomes, and Effie is huffing at our side.

"Really, you'd think we were all criminals," she mutters. Manners are very important to Effie, and I can see someone getting an earful in the near future.

The truck stops at the back of the Justice Building and without even being allowed to take a breath, they're leading us to the front doors, where the anthem is already beginning to play. Someone pins a microphone to my shirt and they're pushing us forward again. I take hold of Katniss's hand; partially for the story we've created for the whole of Panem, partly to keep myself steady and grounded, and partly because I know how hard this particular District will be for Katniss. She had allied with Rue, had grown very fond of the small girl, and had watched her die.

"Big smiles!" Effie says, nudging us forward. We step out and there's loud applause, but more of a forced applause, none of the cheering we would normally receive in the Capitol. There are banners that have been placed all over the square, which I think may be something to do with how run down the buildings all are. There are a lot of people packed into the area, but I'm sure it's not even half of the people in this District.

We stand together as the Mayor gives out the speech in our honour, and then I have to talk. It's a scripted reply we'd been told to say, and Katniss follows. We're supposed to give personal comments on the Tributes who died in the Games, which I'd written down on a card. But I don't need to pull them out to read, I already know what's written on them.

"Both Thresh and Rue were strong in their own way, and it saddens me that I never got to chance to know either of them. I strongly believe that if we had lived in the same District, the fearsome, strong Thresh and I would be good friends. He had a kind side to him, which we all saw when he let Katniss go at the Feast. I'm eternally grateful to both Thresh and Rue for helping to keep Katniss alive in the Arena, and in turn keeping me alive to this day. It's a debt to you all that we will forever be unable to repay." I hesitate, knowing the next part I want to say but had not written down. Effie would have refused to let me. "It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winning every year for the duration of our lives." Now that it's said, the Capitol cannot deny the families even if it isn't legal or anything. There are gasps and murmurs in the crowd.

Katniss looks at me, with some surprise in her eyes. I flash her a smile, but perhaps it's not the happiest smile I'd ever mustered. Suddenly, she lifts herself to her tiptoes and kisses me gently. The mayor steps forward to hand us our large plaques, but Katniss is looking off to the side, to Rue's family.

"Wait!" Katniss suddenly says, stumbling forward with her plaque clutched to her chest. "Wait, please." All eyes are on Katniss. "I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven. I only ever spoke to Thresh one time. Just long enough for him to spare my life. I didn't know him, but I always respected him. For his power. For his refusal to play the Games on anyone's terms but his own. The Careers wanted him to team up with them from the beginning, but he wouldn't do it. I respected him for that." The crowd is silent, more silent than I've ever heard a bunch of people be before. I stand a few steps behind her, my gaze fixed on Katniss. She's turning now, to face Rue's family. "But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim. Thank you for your children." Her head movse now, to look at the whole crowd staring back at her. "And thank you all for the bread." There's a moment silence, in which all stare at Katniss. Suddenly, from an old man in the crowd, comse the four note whistle that I had heard Katniss whistle, the one that Rue had taught her.

Out of nowhere, every person in the crowd presses the three middle fingers of their left hand against their lips and extends them towards Katniss. They had all moved in unison, and it was certainly not something spontaneous. It had to be planned. It's also a sign not seen in the other Districts, it is one that we use in District Twelve as a final goodbye. It is odd, and I'm sure it has really touched Katnis. The mayor takes over, and I take Katniss' hand again, leading her back to the doors. Katniss stops, looking like she might be ill or upset.

"Are you all right?" I ask her.

"Just dizzy. The sun was so bright." She glances down at the flowers in my hand. "I forgot my flowers," she mumbles.

"I'll get them."

"I can." Katniss answers. We turn together, and see what I feel is something we are not meant to. The old man who had whistled Rue's four note tune is being dragged to the top of the steps, where we had just been standing. They force him to his knees and right in front of everyone in the crowd, they put a bullet through his head.

I'd seen death before. I'd been in the Arena where twenty two people had died, after all. But this man is not a Tribute in the Games, this is an old man who works in District Eleven. Did they shoot him because he dared to whistle? Surely the security in this District cannot be that bad? Several Peacekeepers in white stand in our view, a few of them shoving weapons in our direction to push up back to the doors. One of them starts pushing Katniss forward, and I shove him aside.

"We're going!" I snap. "We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss." I wrap my arm around her protectively, and guide her back into the Justice Building. It's only when we're inside that the Peacekeepers stop following us closely. Haymitch, Effie, Portia and Cinna are waiting for us, their faces tight and anxious.

"What happened? We lost the feed just after Katniss' beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gunfire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!" Effie starts to get hysterical, and I know telling her the truth would be of no use to anybody.

"Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired." Two more shots are fired outside, and I cringe. Who else could they have shot now?

"Both of you. With me," Haymitch says, gesturing to Katniss and I. We follow him, and the others stay behind. The Peacekeepers inside the building don't follow us intently like those outside. Haymitch leads us both us a twisting marble staircase, where there's a room at the top that has been prepared for us all. Suddenly, Haymitch yanks the microphones from our shirts and stuffs them behind a sofa cushion, leading us further on through a maze of staircases and narrow halls, through squeaking and protesting doors. I wonder how he could remember his way, because I'm sure I'll never find my way out if left on my own.

Finally we stop. In the dome of the Justice Building, filled with old furniture and forgotten objects that are covered in a thick layer of dust. The window is grimy and dirt filled, so that light struggles to filter into the room. Haymitch spins on his heels to look at us.

"What happened?" I tell him what happened in the Square after our speeches. About the old man's whistle, about the crowd using the District Twelve sign, about the old man being shot. That memory still rattles me, seeing the man crumple to the ground like that. "What's going on, Haymitch?" Because these are not normal events. That old man cannot have been shot just because he whistled. Katniss has been tense and secretive since we started the tour, Haymitch and Katniss whispering in the shadows.

"It will be better coming from you," Haymitch is looking at Katniss. I turn on my heels to look at her. Katniss tells me all about the things she has been keeping secret from me, about President Snow visiting her, and the country being in peril because of a rebellion. All started from our rebellious act with the berries. All on Katniss' shoulders.

"I was supposed to fix things on this tour. Make everyone who had doubted believe I acted out of love. Calm things down. But obviously, all I've done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished." Katniss sits down on an old, broken sofa.

"Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money." I say, and lash out at a broken lamp at my side. It smashes on the floor. I'm not only angry at the Capitol, but at the both of them. All of these secrets they've kept from me, when so many people have been in danger. My actions could put my family in danger, because I had no idea what was going on. "This has to stop. Right now. This – this – game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I'm too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them." I snap.

"It's not like that, Peeta-" Katniss begins, but I cut her off.

"It's exactly like that!" I shout at her. "I have people I care about, too, Katniss! Family and friends back in District Twelve who will be just as dead as yours if we don't pull this off. So, after all we went through in the arena, don't I even rate the truth from you?" I rant, my chest heaving from the anger built up.

"You're always so reliably good. So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn't want to disrupt that."

"Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today. What do you think is going to happen to Rue's and Thresh's families? Do you think they'll get their share of our winnings? Do you think I gave them a bright future? Because I think they'll be lucky if they survive the day!" I lash out again. A statue, I think.

"He's right, Haymitch. We were wrong not to tell him. Even back in the Capitol." Katniss says, which makes me feel a little better. But not much. I still have more to say.

"Even in the arena, you two had some sort of system worked out, didn't you?" I lower my voice, not looking at either of them. "Something I wasn't part of."

"No. Not officially. I just could tell what Haymitch wanted me to do by what he sent, or didn't send." Katniss replies. Well, at least they hadn't sorted out some kind of code before we went into the arena.

"Well, I never had that opportunity. Because he never sent me anything until you showed up." I say. Well, I had always said that Katniss is his favourite. I had put all these thoughts aside because there was no use dwelling on such matters, but now it all came to the surface.

"Look, boy-" Haymitch begins.

"Don't bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I'd have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we're very good. We all know I'm better than Katniss in front of the cameras. No one needs to coach me on what to say. But I have to know what I'm walking into." The anger has left my voice now.

"From now on, you'll be fully informed."

"I better be." I say, leaving abruptly without looking at Katniss. I have to mull things over on my own, all of these secrets and dangers. I manage to find my way out of the maze that Haymitch has led us through, and get straight in the shower. It's not as fanciful as the ones in the Capitol, but at least it spurts out hot water. Even after I have washed myself I stay under the water, wishing the hot spray could wash away the anger that tenses all of my muscles. Katniss' words are still running around my mind in circles.

"_President Snow knows that Gale and I kissed..." _I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the sentence out of my head, but I can't. She had kissed Gale, or Gale has kissed her. More than once? Is that how she's been spending her time since returning? With Gale in the woods, kissing under the trees? I remember something about Gale working in the mines now, but it doesn't mean he doesn't have some spare time. I can't help but think that she had probably kissed Gale of her own volition, rather than a trick to survive and stay alive.

I don't know how long I stay in the water, but my Prep team come to drag me out and dress me. I strap my leg back on and allow them to dress me, as I have done so many times before. I don't even feel any embarrassment standing naked before them any more. They don't even seem to notice. It's obvious that the Prep team have no idea what has happened during the day, or any of the threats Katniss, and now I, have to deal with. They dress me in rather plain clothes tonight, black trousers and a button shirt. It's finished off with a long, pink tie and a black suit jacket.

Haymitch appears in the room, and shoos the Prep team out to meet up with the others. I'm surprised by his sudden appearance, and not sure what to make of it. I brace myself for whatever might come next, a possible lecture or onslaught of slurred insults. I have no idea.

"I've never seen you that angry before," he says, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

"Yes. Well, I'm starting to get sick of the lies." I mutter, not adding how hurt and broken the last set of lies had left me.

"You shouldn't be so hard on Katniss." I turn my attention to him. "I made her lie to you, I thought it was best to keep you out of it all. She was just following what I told her." I tug at the sleeves of my jacket, picking off invisible dust. I'm not sure what to say.

"She still went along with it," I mumble. "All she seems to do is build up lies when it comes to me." I turn my eyes away, hoping he doesn't see the hurt in them.

"You're acting as if you've never lied to her, boy." My brows knit together in a frown. "You waited until you were in front of the whole of Panem before you told her you love her." Love, not loved. He knows the feelings haven't gone. I nod my head, and Haymitch seems to accept this as some some of apology because he turns to leave. After a few steps, he pauses and looks back at me. "Those nightmares – you get them a lot?" I look at him, his curiosity, his understanding. Sometimes I think it might be easier if I took up a bottle of liquor like Haymitch. Perhaps it is the answer to getting rid of them.

"Does it ever get easier?" I ask quietly. Haymitch scoffs and shakes his head, looking down at his feet.

"Wouldn't know. Never gave it a chance to, boy." He says and disappears. I stare after him, but decide I'll think on the matter later.

Portia appears a few minutes later and walks up to me with a smile, holding something in her hands. I wonder if she knows. I realise that it is a silver chain she has in her hand, which she clasps around my neck. With her hands on my shoulders, she leans in and quietly murmurs, "You'll do a good job, I know you will." She pulls back with a bright smile, and I know she wants to say more, she wants to talk fully with me without fear of the cameras. It is then that I realise I have gained a good friend, someone I can trust with my thoughts. "Don't forget your brightest smile."

The pink tie seems odd, but I understand it when we meet the others. Katniss has been dressed in a pink dress. I've never seen her hair curled before, but I notice that she is still as beautiful as ever. _Just friends_, I remind myself in my head. Except in front of the cameras. It's funny, how it's all meant to be a pretend, but in front of the cameras is probably going to be the moments I'll really be true to my feelings.


	4. Chapter 4

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_I know you've all been wondering and asking, so I will confirm for you all that I WILL be writing Mockingjay in Peeta's Point of View! I've had a few ideas floating in my head and really want to see what I can do with them. _

_Also, thank you so, so much for all of your reviews! I can't thank you enough, but every review that you guys write for me always makes my day, so thank you! _

Chapter Four

Portia leads me downstairs where we meet the others, and it's obvious that Effie is extremely distressed. She doesn't seem as excited by the meal like she usually is, but rather already set a minute by minute plan to the moment where we get back on the train.

"Is something wrong, Effie?" Cinna asks her.

"I don't like the way we've been treated. Being stuffed into trucks and barred from the platform. And then, about an hour ago, I decided to look around the Justice Building. I'm something of an expert in architectural design, you know." Effie says, and everyone pauses.

"Oh, yes, I've heard that." Portia says, in what I think is an attempt to stop the pause going on too long.

"So, I was just having a peek around because District ruins are going to be all the rage this year, when two Peacemakers showed up and ordered me back to our quarters. One of them actually poked me with her gun," Effie carries on. I wonder if this has something to with our disappearing act to the dome. Katniss suddenly hugs Effie, which is a little surprising. She seems intent on surprising me with these odd outbursts. First, she exploded and shouted at Effie, now she's suddenly hugging her.

"That's awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn't go to the dinner at all. At least until they've apologised," I quirk an eyebrow, but Katniss isn't turned to me to see my confused expression. Effie seems to brighten up, though.

"No, I'll manage. It's part of my job to weather the ups and downs. And we can't let you two miss your dinner. But thank you for the offer, Katniss." Effie is all business again and ordering us into a formation ready to enter for the dinner. Music starts playing and the Prep teams disappear. Katniss and I both reach for the other's hand at the same time. I start counting in my head, as instructed by Effie.

"Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions. And it isn't as if I haven't kept things from you in the past." _Like my being in love with you._

"I think I broke a few things myself after that interview," she says and I remember her pushing me.

"Just an urn." I reply.

"And your hands. There's no point to it any more, though, is there? Not being straight with each other?" She asks.

"No point." I say, waiting for our turn to step up. I know it's an odd time, but I have to ask her. The thought has been running through my mind ever since she told me. "Was that the only time you kissed Gale?" I ask her, knowing she can't lie now that we'd agreed to be straight with one another.

"Yes," Katniss says, sounding shocked I'd brought it up. I finish up the counting in my head.

"That's fifteen. Let's do it." We fix the smiles on our faces and step out into the spotlight.

The next few days become a blur of train rides, dinners, speeches in our honour and thank you speeches in return. Katniss and I are always united in front of the cameras, and step up the romance; kissing and unable to keep our hands off one another at dinners, often caught trying to sneak off. I wonder how Katniss and Haymitch had planned to play the romance with my unknowing. Our nights on the train are sombre, picking apart our every action and word, wondering if they were any help.

The stress really starts to get to Katniss and I. We both endure sleepless nights, food isn't as gratifying as it once was, and the Capitol's food doesn't taste as rich as before. During nights, I often walk up and down the train in an attempt to wear myself out. It never really works, and there are still dark circles under my eyes that the Prep team have to work to cover up. I don't remember exactly when it started, but each night I have to rush in to Katniss' room, to wake her from her nightmares. She screams and thrashes around, but each night I'm able to rouse her from the sleep. The first night, I am about to leave but when I turn, Katniss reaches out to take my hand.

"Peeta, will you stay with me?" she murmurs quietly. I glance down at her tired eyes, her tight expression, and nod my head.

"Of course." _Always, I will always stay with you._ I add in my head. I climb into the bed and wrap my arms around Katniss, stroking her hair and sometimes murmuring soft tunes in her ear until she falls into a more peaceful sleep. Once she's asleep, I tend to stay with her for a while, holding her to me and pretending things are different. At some point, my visits to her become a nightly occurrence, and the rest of the train gossips about us.

We finally reach the Capitol, where the crowd adores us and don't need convincing that we are children madly in love. But there are still people out there who do need convincing.

"You've done very well for the cameras." Haymitch says after another mouthful of clear liquor.

"It's still not enough." I comment, starting to lose hope and wondering what it means. If we fail, what happens then? I think of my mother and father, of Gareth and Lukail.

"What if … you were to propose to me?" Katniss asks, seeming to grow on her own idea. "That could work! If you propose to me on live television, with one of your great speeches. You're good with words, this could be what convinces them."

I want to ground to open up and swallow me right there. _Propose, get married, and then what? _I wonder if Katniss is willing to live on for the rest of our lives, pretending to love me. A lump builds in my throat but I hold back the emotion.

"Y-yes. Good idea." I manage to murmur, jumping to my feet and leaving the room without another words. I lock my bedroom door behind me and turn to stare at it, not sure what to do now that I've stormed away. There are so many thoughts running through my mind that I don't know where to start in order to sort them. I strip down and unstrap my leg, staring at the contraption and suddenly hating it. I suddenly hate everything and everyone in the Capitol, I hate President Snow, and a part of me hates those who are rebelling, for bringing this upon Katniss and I.

"This is what you wanted," I mutter to myself, with my head in my hands. "To marry Katniss and live your lives together." I try to convince myself. But I want it to be real. I want to propose to Katniss in our future, maybe in the meadow near our house, with my declaration of love and knowing she loves me back. Not here in the Capitol, in front of the cameras, as a means of saving our families. Not as some kind of last resort.

I want to sit and cry for a while, or start smashing up random objects in my room. Anything to express the anger and upset building inside me. Instead, I stand in the shower for an hour and think up my proposal speech. When I hop out of the shower, towel wrapped around my waist, Portia is sitting on my bed. I pause when I see her, leaning against the wall, and it takes me a moment to notice the small box in her hand.

"No proposal would be right without an engagement ring, right?" she asks, and I wonder who told her. I'm frozen to the spot for a moment, not sure what to think.

"A-a ring?" I stutter.

"Yes. It makes it seem more like you … had this planned." She says, and I can't help the half laugh that escapes my lips.

"I _did_ have this planned, Portia." I say, strapping my left leg to the stump of flesh. "I had this planned maybe ten years from now, with a Katniss who actually loves me back." My voice rises a little.

"Oh Peeta, honey." Portia squeaks, her hand flying up to cover her mouth and her eyes wet with tears. I sigh, and rub the bridge of my nose in the hopes it can rub away all the tensions and frustrations. Of course it can't. Portia is suddenly hugging me, and I hold on to her for a minute or two. It feels good, as if she is keeping me grounded, some sort of anchor in all of this madness.

"It's okay, Portia." I untangle myself from her. "Let's just get this over with." She nods furiously, wiping the tears from her cheeks, smudging her make up. She hands me the box and I peek inside. It's certainly a beautiful ring, although a little too extravagant, probably not something I would have picked out.

"Could you – could help me with one more thing, Portia?" I ask, chewing on my lower lip.

"Of course, Peeta – anything!" She answers enthusiastically.

"Could you maybe help me practise getting down on one knee? I'm still not fully used to this damned leg, and I want to make sure I can get down and back up again, without looking like a fool."

"Of course, Peeta." Portia says, and I think there's a catch in her voice and the threat of more tears. I ignore it, because it has been hard enough not letting my own tears fall. But I'm sick of crying.

Portia spends just under an hour with me, helping me down and back up until I'm able to do it own my own. My knees creak less and, my real leg stops aching and my fake one moves more freely.

I have the move perfected, and use it in front of Ceasar Flickerman, Katniss, a live crowd, and the whole of Panem behind the cameras. Katniss is very good at looking the overjoyed, blushing bride to be. For a moment, I can actually pretend that it's all real. Until the cheering of the crowd becomes so overwhelming I cannot ignore them, and President Snow is walking up to congratulate us himself. I manage to plaster a smile on my face when he walks up to me, remembering the danger we are all in and that attempting to punch the President in the face is not a clever option.

_It is all your fault, _I think to myself silently when he turns away.

The President surprises me when he turns to the crowd, suggesting we have a wedding in the Capitol. Not even a chance to have our own quiet, private wedding. It will be planned and executed by the Capitol, it will be a ridiculous flamboyant event that will feel meaningless. I thought I couldn't hate him more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Chapter Six will be posted in a couple of hours._

Chapter Five

There's a large party after the interview has ended, and it's truly a grand one. The walls are lined with tables full of food, and Katniss surprises me when she sees them.

"I want to taste everything in the room," she says and I glance at her in surprise. I can't figure out the expression on her face, or what she's thinking. She has barely eaten since District Eleven, so why is her appetite suddenly returning to her? I wonder if perhaps she's gotten some good news somewhere, that we had done good work. That it's all going to be okay. I have to push my confusion aside because the cameras are still here, so I curve my lips into a smile.

"Then you'd better pace yourself."

"Okay, no more than one bite of each dish," Katniss decides. I watch her in amusement as she sets at the food, managing to keep to her decision for most dishes but breaking with a few particular dishes that she enjoys. I pick at some of the food, not wanting to fill myself before we even reach the fifth table.

We're not left to make our way through the meals though, because people are constantly coming up to and asking for pictures, making small talk, showing Katniss what they had created from her mockingjay token. There are pieces of jewellery, odd little bits, personal tattoos. It's quite mad, really.

We make it to the tenth table before Katniss' Prep team come stumbling across to us, words slurred with the alcohol.

"Why aren't you eating?" one of them asks.

"I have been, but I can't hold another bite." Katniss says, which isn't surprising. She had literally tried everything so far, and pushed certain foods upon me. I'm starting to feel full, so I can imagine Katniss being ready to burst.

"No one lets that stop them!" The lead us away to a different table, full of wine glasses that are filled with a clear liquid. It reminds me of what Haymitch drinks. I have a feeling this isn't the same kind of drink, though. "Drink this!"

I pick one up and sniff the drink, about to take a sip. The three of them go mad.

"Not here!" one shrieks.

"You have to do it in there," they point to the bathrooms. "Or you'll get it all over the floor!" I frown, looking down at the glass. A drink you have to have in the bathroom, that helps you to eat more? It clicks in my mind.

"You mean this will make me puke?" I ask, to make sure I have it right.

"Of course, so you can keep eating. I've been in there twice already. Everybody does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?" I curl my nose up in disgust and carefully place the glass back down on the table, thinking again how I will never understand these Capitol citizens. Filling their stomachs with food, throwing up, and filling up again. Repeatedly. When there are people in some Districts who are lucky if they get one meal. I think of the starving Districts, starting to rise against the Capitol and what it stands for. I wonder if maybe they aren't all wrong, after all. I suddenly want to be away from the glasses of liquid, and away from these people.

"Come on Katniss, let's dance." I take her hand and we both make our way through the crowd to the floor, where there are others dancing. I don't know many dances, but it's better than listening to people talk of throwing up for the pleasure of eating more. The music above is slow, so I pull Katniss into my arms and we move in a slow circle, the dance only needs a few simple steps. My mind is ablaze without thoughts of the people around us. Every time, they manage to surprise me again when I think I'm getting used to them.

"You go along, thinking you can deal with it, thinking maybe they're not so bad, and then you-" I stop, cutting off my sentence. Aware of the ears around us, all of them Capitol.

"Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment. Really, this is nothing in comparison." Katniss points out.

"I know. I know that. It's just sometimes I can't stand it any more. To the point where … I'm not sure what I'll do." I pause, glancing around to make sure no one is listening and lowering my voice to a whisper. "Maybe we were wrong, Katniss."

"About what?"

"About trying to subdue things in the Districts." I say. She snaps her head back and forth, to make sure there is nobody to overhear the conversation. I mentally kick myself for bringing this up in the middle of the dancefloor full of Capitol citizens, with a camera crew just across the room. "Sorry," I mutter.

"Save it for home." She says. I nod my head subtly, and then Portia is at our side and escorted by a large man; she introduces him as Plutarch Heavensbee. He smiles at me good naturedly, and I return my camera winning smile.

"I was wondering if perhaps I could steal away your fiancé for a dance?" He asks. Fiancé. It's odd hearing it said out loud.

"Of course, so long as you don't get too attached to her," I joke, making him laugh. I turn to Portia, who is already holding her hand out to me. I chuckle and take it in mine; we dance away in circles and it's obvious Portia is used to more elaborate dances.

"How are you doing, Peeta?" She asks, quiet enough so that only I can hear.

"Well, I think. Katniss seems in good spirits."I comment, knowing she'll understand my meaning.

"Yes, I wonder what's perked her up." We share a knowing glance, but know we can't talk openly about it here.

"Portia, do you ever drink those drinks that make you puke?" I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer. I can feel her curious glance at the side of my face.

"The Capitol and the Districts have very different lifestyles, Peeta."

"Yes, like how you all never have to worry about starving. You can make yourself throw up in order to carry on eating." I say, with a hint of bitterness to my voice. Portia sighs quietly, and we turn again, coming to the edge of the dancing people. There seem to be people there waiting to congratulate me on everything they know. My Victory in the Games, my paintings, my engagement.

"I know how you view us, Peeta. These are the views and ways I was brought up on, it's always been normal in my life for people to drink those drinks." I cross my arms across my chest, lean in for someone who wants a photo taken, remembering my camera smile.

I don't want to fight with Portia, but it's hard not to categorise her with the other Capitol people around me, sometimes I forget she's just as much on of them as my Prep team, or those rushing to the bathroom with their wine glass of clear liquid. She's also the woman I've been able to turn to ever since the last Games, and she's become a good friend.

"I'm sorry, Portia." I sigh. "I know we were brought up on different customs." Portia smiles and pats the back of my hand.

"Don't worry yourself, Peeta my love. I know things have been stressful for you." She says gently and I smile back, amazed at how patient she can be with me.

"Oh! I must dash, darling. I've just seen a very handsome someone!" She says excitedly and I laugh.

"Go on, enjoy yourself." I wander for a little while, and find myself at a very colourful table, laden with cupcakes and other baked goods.

"Oh my! Mr Mellark! It is honestly such a pleasure to meet you," A young man behind the table says excitedly, then is calling some other people over. I spend the next fifteen minutes talking with them about icing skills and all of the like, and they seem to listen to me enthusiastically. I much prefer this to all the photo taking, the smiling and small conversations.

"I'd love to examine your work in peace," I say after the hundredth question of how I like what they have done. "If you're able to, perhaps you could get a small assortment for me to take home with me to study."

"Yes, yes, of course!" I notice Katniss at my side, turning to smile at her.

"Effie said we have to be on the train at one. I wonder what times it is," I glance around in an attempt to look for a clock.

"Almost midnight," she replies instantly, picking up a chocolate flower and nibbling on it. I wonder how she knows the time, considering there's no kind of clock anywhere in the room that I can see.

"Time to say thank you and farewell!" Effie's bright voice makes me jump. She leads us around, picking up Cinna and Portia along the way, saying our goodbyes to all the important people in the room. She's leading us to the door to leave.

"Shouldn't we thank President Snow? It's his house." I say, thinking of our manners.

"Oh, he's not a big one for parties. Too busy. I've already arranged for the necessary notes and gifts to be sent to him tomorrow." She's looking around, barely paying attention to us. She seems to spot what, or rather who, she's looking for. "There you are!" Haymitch can't hold himself up, there are two Capitol attendants propping the man up between them. I'm not sure he's even conscious.

We leave the President's house and get into the cars, and of course Effie's planning is so precise that we arrive at the train station at exactly one o'clock. The attendants dump Haymitch in his room whilst the rest of us gather around the table, listening to Effie's reminder that the tour hasn't finished yet. I just want to go to sleep.

"There's the Harvest Festival in District Twelve to think about. So I suggest we drink our tea and head straight to bed," she says, much to my relief.

We all go to bed, but I don't stay in mine and go to Katniss' room instead. She's not screaming or thrashing around, but I get into bed just in case her nightmares start up soon. Katniss turns and rests her head on my arm, and it isn't long before I drift off.

"_Help me! Save me, Peeta! No, help me!" _Her screams startle me back into consciousness. I glance to me left, where I can feel her warmth against my body. I run my finger down her cheek, to make sure she's real and her face isn't covered in blood. Safe and well, in my arms. My breathing calms down and after some time I'm able to fall in a more peaceful slumber.

I wake up sometime in the early afternoon, but Katniss is still asleep with her head still on my arm. I don't move from where I'm laying and watch her for a while. It's not long before she wakes up and tries to turn carefully.

"No nightmares," I say.

"What?" she asks.

"You didn't have any nightmares last night," I point out.

"I had a dream, though." She says, looking lost in thought. "I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice."

"Where did she take you?" I ask quietly, brushing the hair back from her forehead.

"I don't know. We never arrived. But I felt happy."

"Well, you slept like you were happy." I say with a slight smile.

"Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?"

"I don't know." I answer, because my nightmares hadn't stopped with Katniss in my arms. I still got them most nights. "I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralysed with terror."

"You should wake me," she says.

"It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you," I admit. "I'm okay once I realise you're here." I think of how we're almost home, about us returning to our individual houses. Returning to the nightmares on my own, waking up on my own. It's okay here on the train, when Katniss is enclosed in my arms and the fears from the nightmares melt away. "Be worse when we're home and I'm sleeping alone again."

Katniss doesn't say anything and she barely even looks at me, getting out of the bed andd turning away from me. I stretch out my arm to get rid of the heavy feeling, from where Katniss' head had been layed most of the night. My leg is still strapped on so I stand up, stretching out my limbs. I don't unattach the leg when I share a bed with Katniss; I don't want to freak her out or anything like that. It can be somewhat uncomfortable but manageable. Katniss is paused, looking at me.

"So … I'll just go back to uh … to my room." I say, feeling more than awkward. Katniss nods.

"Yeah, okay. I need to shower anyway."

"Right," I mutter, pausing before turning to leave. I hope this isn't a hint of how our interactions are going to be from now on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_I'm sure that if it were up to some of you, this series would be finished in ten chapters! But I don't like to let you down, so I've mashed up some of the chapters I have pre-written and hopefully these future chapters will be long enough for you all._

Chapter Six

We return home to District Twelve, but aren't able to see our families until that evening, when we're treated to a feast in the Mayor's house. After that, life returns to how it was, with the exception of Katniss and I being friends. I go back to painting my nightmares and spending most of my days in the Bakery with my parents, visiting Haymitch regularly to make sure he doesn't die in the night, and delivering colourful cupcakes to Prim and her mother in the hopes of seeing Katniss.

There's one day I'm just leaving Prim, making my way to the bakery when Katniss appears with her cheeks flushed and her usual Game bag slung over one shoulder.

"Been hunting?" I ask, making sure she knows that I disapprove.

"Not really. Going to town?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to eat dinner with my family." I tell her.

"Well, I can at least walk you in." I nod my head and we set off towards the bakery side by side. Katniss seems to be thinking something over because she's chewing on her lip and staring intently at the ground beneath our feet. I frown a little but otherwise don't comment, allow her to stew in her own thoughts. I'm just glad to be in her company.

"Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the District with me, would you?" she suddenly blurts out and I'm almost frozen in shock. I grab her arm and make her stop walking to look at me. I know she's serious, she wouldn't be asking if she weren't. But run away?

"Depends on why you're asking." I answer, the beat in my chest fluttering a little. Run away together, just me and her? No, she would never leave her mother and sister behind. Probably not Gale, either. The idea of running from District Twelve is very sudden, surely it's not because of our upcoming marriage?

"President Snow wasn't convinced by me. There's an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out."

"By 'we' do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?" I'm not sure I want to hear the answer, I'm not sure why I'm even considering hearing her out.

"My family. Yours, if they want to come. Haymitch, maybe." She says, leaving out one name that's hanging between the both of us.

"What about Gale?"

"I don't know. He might have other plans." She answers. I shake my head and smile at her, because this is all so ludicrous.

"I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I'll go."

"You will?" she breathes, looking up at me.

"Yeah. But I don't think for a minute you will." She pulls her arm from my grip.

"Then you don't know me. Be ready. It could be any time." She turns and walks away, but I follow behind her.

"Katniss." I try to get her attention, but she carries on walking, not looking at me, pretending she can't hear. So stubborn. "Katniss, hold up." She stops, kicking some snow from the path. "I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won't be making things worse for everyone." I lift my head, because there's an odd noise. "What's that?" I ask. It takes me a moment to place it, because it's a sound not often heard. But I'm positive it's the sound of a whip.

"Come on," I say, heading for the square.

There's a large crowd in the square blocking our view. I stand up on a crate to get a better look, holding my hand out for Katniss. I look across the heads to see what the commotion is, to see who the unlucky person is. His head is lowered, hair covering most of his face but there's no mistaking who it is. My first instinct is to block Katniss from seeing, to get her far away. Because I know her reaction.

"Get down. Get out of here!" I hiss at her.

"What?" She tries to get up again.

"Go home, Katniss! I'll be there in a minute, I swear!" She can't see this. Katniss pulls violently from me and begins to push her way through the crowd. I jump down to pull her back and away, but am too late. The sea have people have already closed up in front of me. I begin to push my way through, ignoring the mutters from those around me. I'm halfway through when I hear her.

"No!" she screams, and then the hard sound of a whip hitting flesh. "Stop it! You'll kill him!" She's shrieking, and I push harder through the people. Why won't they move! I break through, just as Haymitch is striding towards them. I don't know who the man is with the whip in his hand, I only know that Gale is near death, Darius seems to be unconscious on the ground and Katniss has a nasty looking mark on her cheek.

Haymitch has his hand under Katniss' chin, seeming to inspect her face.

"Oh, excellent. She's got a photo shoot next week modelling wedding dresses. What am I supposed to tell her stylist?" Haymitch asks out loud, and for a brief moment I want to hit him for being concerned about the wrong thing. Until I see realisation dawn on the old man's face.

"She interrupted the punishment of a confessed criminal." The man says, and I can't help wondering who he is. Why he's here, and where old man Cray is.

"I don't care if she blew up the blasted Justice Building! Look at her cheek! Think that will be camera ready in a week?"

"That's not my problem," the old man retorts, sounding like he might be starting to crack.

"No? Well, it's about to be, my friend. The first call I make when I get home is to the Capitol," tht's impossible, since Haymitch doesn't have a phone any more. Nobody has to know that, though. "Find out who authorised you to mess up my victor's pretty little face!" I wander out from the crowd and to Katniss, gently taking her free arm. Placing myself subtly between her and this old, harsh man.

"He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?" _I don't know, she's probably a little bit in love with him. _I think bitterly, glancing at Katniss' face, which is beginning to swell.

"He's her cousin," Haymitch says.

"And she's my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us." He's not the first person on my list of people to protect, but I know his safety has a direct correlation with Katniss' happiness; and lately, she needs as much of that as she can get. The old man glances back at his back up squad, at faces I recognise. A woman steps forward.

"I believe, for a first offence, the required number of lashes has been dispersed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by a firing squad."

"Is that the standard protocol here?"

"Yes, sir." The others are nodding in their agreement.

"Very well. Get your cousin our of here, then, girl. And if he comes to, remind him that the next time he poaches off the Capitol's land, I'll assemble that firing squad personally." I have a bad feeling about this man and his sudden appearance in the District. I let go of Katniss' arm, because she's turning and frantically trying to undo the knots at Gale's wrist. Someone hands me a knife and I cut through them, so that he crumples to the floor.

"Better get him to your mother," Haymitch says, staring down at the wounds on his flesh. I don't want to concentrate on them. Someone hands us a board to carry him, but wants us to keep it quiet. I'm not surprised. It looks like things are changing. I can't help my thoughts wandering to District Eleven, where they have high fences and gun towers. Hopefully, it won't get that bad.

I help to carry Gale, along with Haymitch and some men who I believe are miners. We head up to Katniss' house in the Victor Village, and some girl appears at Katniss' side.

"Need help getting back?" the small girl asks, and I have to commend her bravery when most of the District had fled to their homes.

"No, but can you get Hazelle? Send her over?"

"Yeah," the girls turns and begins to run.

"Leevy! Don't let her bring the kids." Kids? I think I remember something about Gale having younger siblings, although I've never taken much of an interest in his life. I stay silent as we walk, listening to the men piecing together the story of how Gale came to be tied to the whipping post.

"What about Darius?" I asked, remembering him laying with a nasty bruise on the ground.

"After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn't so it smart and official, like Purina did. He grabbed Thread's arm and thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him." I wonder if we'll see Darius again.

"Doesn't sound like much good for any of us," Haymitch mutters. It starts snowing around us, a thick storm that doesn't allow us to see too far ahead. We finally make it, and Katniss' mother is already waiting. She glances down at Gale in confusion.

"New Head," Haymitch says, which seems to be all the explanation she needs. We help lift Gale into the kitchen, and stand back to allow Prim and her mother set to work. It's really rather amazing to watch them go, a hard, determined expression falling over the face of the woman who's always so pleased to see me at the door. Who invites me in for tea and to talk.

"Did it cut your eye?" Katniss' mother asks her, glancing at the wound on Katniss' face whilst still working at the wounds on Gale.

"No, it's just swelled shut."

"Get more snow on it." She instructs, but her attention instantly falls upon the boy on her table.

"Can you save him?" Katniss asks her mother in a small voice, but Mrs Everdeen doesn't answer.

"Don't worry. Used to be a lot of whipping before Cray. She's the one we took them to." I remember a time like that, but only because my father had returned home one night with similar welts and cuts on his body. I don't remember the crime he had committed, only the blood and how suddenly mortal my father was. The man who was always there for me, who had seemed invincible. I remember weeping in a corner, whilst they argued over whether to come and see Katniss' mother, the healer.

"_I don't want you being anywhere near that woman!" My mother had hissed. _

"_Would you rather I died, instead? Would that make you happier?" _I had never heard my father angry before, not many times. He's always been the calmest person I know, so listening to him talk about dying made me cry out. I pleaded with them both to save my father, to let him go and see the healer. They hadn't realised I'd been listening in, but agreed to go straight away after finally managing to calm me down. I guess my mother had always known about my father's affections for this woman in front of me.

I notice Katniss staring down at Gale, with a helpless, confused expression on her face. Water drips from her gloved hand, where she's holding a melting pile of snow. I pull a chair out and make her sit down, gather some fresh snow in a cloth and hold it against her cheek. I don't speak to her, because there's nothing I can say to get through to her now. Her only concern is Gale.

A woman arrives that I don't know, but remember seeing around the District. She sits down next to the table and takes a hold of Gale's hand, pulling it to her lips. We all stay where we are, silent and watching. It takes a long time to clean out the wounds, and I can sense how wound up Katniss is. There's still nothing I can do. A small moan comes from Gale's mouth, meaning he's regaining consciousness. Prim and her mother are talking of painkillers, but decide on a herbal concoction instead.

"That won't be enough," Katniss says, and I'm so startled I actually jump. She had been so quiet. All eyes turn to Katniss. "That won't be enough, I know how it feels. That will barely knock out a headache."

"We'll combine it with sleep syrup, Katniss, and he'll manage it. The herbs are more for inflammation-" Katniss mother tries to explain, but all the tension and worry seems to burst out of Katniss at once.

"Just give him the medicine!" She screams. "Give it to him! Who are you, anyway, to decide how much pain he can stand!"

"Take her out." Her mother snaps, and Haymitch and I have to physically carry her out of the room. She thrashes against us and shouts obscenities at her mother that I would never dare to utter in the presence of my own mother. We pin her onto a bed in one of the bedrooms until she finally stops fighting us. She curls in on herself and sobs, whilst Haymitch and I stand there uselessly.

"She says President Snow wasn't convinced," I whisper to Haymitch. "There was some kind of uprising in District Eight. She wants us all to run." Haymitch doesn't answer me, his gaze flicking back to Katniss.

Haymitch and I both take a seat and wait, until Katniss' mother comes in quietly and treats the wound on her cheek. I only listen whilst Haymitch and Katniss' mother talk, something about it starting again and being sorry to see Cray go. Not a likeable man, but at least he wasn't in the habit of whipping people.

The doorbell rings, and Katniss is up like a shot.

"They can't have him," she says.

"Might be you they're after." Haymitch replies.

"Or you," she retorts back.

"Not my house. But I'll get the door."

"No, I'll get it." Katniss' mother says quietly. We all follow her down the stairs and it's not Peacekeepers at the door, but Madge, the Mayor's daughter. She holds a cardboard box out to Katniss.

"Use these for your friend. They're my mother's. She said I could take them. Use them, please." She turns and runs back out into the snow storm before anybody has a chance to say anything. I have to wonder why the Mayor's daughter would be so worried for a boy from the Seam and his well-being.

"Crazy girl," Haymitch mutters. We all crowd back into the kitchen, where Katniss' mother fills a syringe with whatever Madge had handed over, and shoots it into Gale. The reaction is instant, and the pain melts away from his face.

"What is that stuff?" I ask.

"It's from the Capitol. It's called morphling."

"I didn't even know Madge knew Gale," I comment.

"We used to sell her strawberries," Katniss snaps with what sounds like anger in her tone. I can't tell if she's angry with me, or with Madge. Or just everybody and everything in general.

"She must have quite a taste for them," Haymitch says.

"She's my friend." Katniss answers, saying no more on the matter. Now that Gale's pain seems to have eased with help from the Mayor's daughter, there's less tension in the room. Katniss' mother tells Haymitch and I to go home, shooing us towards the door. I try to argue with her, wanting to stay with Katniss, but she insists and Haymitch and I end up outside in the storm. We head back to our own houses.

"What's on your mind, boy?" Haymitch asks just as we reach my house. I turn to him and smile half heartedly, probably a little sadly.

"Just realising how much Katniss cares for Gale, and how I'd never get that kind of reaction from her," I tell him bluntly. It doesn't look like Haymitch is going to answer me, most likely knowing I don't really want to hear his assent. I turn and start walking to my door.

"I wouldn't be too sure, Peeta." Haymitch says, making me pause for a moment. He doesn't call me by my name often, and he certainly doesn't lie to make anyone feel better about themselves. I'm not sure what to make of it. It's quite warm in my house, and I remember the dinner I was supposed to have with my family, making a mental note to go and see them first thing in the morning. I want to call Portia and tell her everything, but I don't trust the phone lines. I don't trust a lot any more. Instead, I fall straight in to bed and go to sleep.

I wake a few hours later in a cold sweat, my heart hammering violently against my chest. I stare up at the ceiling as I try to calm down, but have to get up because the cold wind is blowing through my open window. By now, the ritual of sitting up and strapping on my leg is automatic and I don't even have to think about, unlike in the first month when I had often tried to stand up on both legs, and ended up on my face on the floor. Once I'm on my feet I pull on a shirt and close my bedroom window, attempting to keep out the bitter cold.

I start a new canvas in my painting room, making quick, short strokes with the paint and working furiously until it's finished. When I've done the last bit of paint, I pull back to look at what I have created. But it's one that I can't stand to look at, Katniss' smiling face as she's looking out of the canvas. Dressed in a flamboyant, white dress, a veil pulled back over her head. And Gale stood next to her, in a suit, with a rare smile on his lips, his painted eyes staring longingly at Katniss. That's how I'd seen them in my dream. Anger and hate boils over and I grab a pot of black paint and splash it across the canvas. A streak of paint blots out Gale's face, and I use my fingers to smear it across the painting until it's just Katniss staring out at me. I pause, wanting to hold on to the image I have created. Of a happy Katniss.

I cover the rest of the canvas in black paint, deleting the nightmare from my mind.

I stay seated for a while, staring at the black canvas sitting before me. I think on my short conversation with Haymitch, asking if the nightmares ever got better.

"_Wouldn't know. Never gave it a chance to, boy."_ I know what Haymitch means. That he drank away the nightmares, that he did whatever he could so that they wouldn't have a chance of rooting themselves into his head. But the nightmares always have a way of getting in. I know that Haymitch will be currently in his kitchen with a bottle of liquor, not daring to sleep, but glaring wearily at the darkness outside his windows.

I don't want to sleep, because I'm too unsettled and know that the nightmares will just return. For now, I don't want to relive any of them. I leave the painting room, flicking off the light and hiding away the paintings from sight. I don't often venture into the room during the days, not wanting to be reminded of all the thoughts deep in the recesses of my mind. I just want them all to go away. I go down to the kitchen and pull out all the ingredients I need to make dough. I fall into the pattern of making and kneading the dough, something I could probably do in my sleep. I take out my frustrations on the lump laying on the counter. I pound my fists into the soft dough, over and over until I feel a fraction better.

The sun has started to rise when the loaves are cooled, so I pick three up and pull on my boots and a coat. It's still bitterly cold outside, and there's flecks of snow falling, not as bad as the storm from the night before. I stop by Haymitch's house, walking straight in. The smell hardly bothers me any more. I don't shout out for him, just in case. I find him in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa, an open bottle on the table beside him. He's snoring loudly and I know he's dead to the world, so I edge around the room and build up the fire. Once the flames are building up nicely, I leave a loaf of bread beside the bottle of liquor, and head back out into the snow. In the few minutes I'd spent in Haymitch's house, the snow has already picked up.

Katniss' house is quiet, and I walk straight in so that I'm not waking anybody, making my way straight into the kitchen. I pause at the doorway, fist tightening over one loaf of bread. My fingers dig into the crust of one of them, which I will cut off.

Gale is still on the table, sleeping more peacefully than I ever could. Kantiss is sat at his side in one of the kitchen chairs, her head down beside his as she also sleeps, her hand grasping his. I remember my nightmare, the painting, and I want to run. It hits me like a blow, seeing them together like this. In an embrace I would most likely never know. Seeing the both of them before me, I can see it plainly.

She loves Gale. Gale loves her. I love her. Katniss and I are doomed to be married, and live a life of pretence. It's something that some people might be glad for, and consider some kind of Victory. But I hate the Capitol for making her marry me, for forcing her into a life she does not want. Because I know that if she were to choose for herself, she would obviously choose a life with Gale. Surely, he also knows it.

I shake Katniss' shoulder to rouse her from her sleep, knowing she cannot be comfortable. Katniss sits up, looking up at me drowsily, and I can't bring myself to smile.

"Go on up to bed, Katniss. I'll look after him now." I say.

"Peeta. About what I say yesterday, about running-" she starts, but I just shake my head.

"I know." I tell her, because she won't leave now. Things are too dangerous, and Gale needs her. "Nothing to explain."

"Peeta-" she starts again, and I don't know what she's going to say but I know that I don't want to hear whatever apology or excuse she might be thinking of.

"Just go to bed, okay?" I say, and she leaves me alone with Gale. The snow outside is already picking up, the windows awash with white. I wonder if I should try and apply some snow to Gale's wounds, but think it better to leave it to Prim and her mother. I would likely only make his wounds worse. I sit down in the chair that Katniss had occupied, and find myself staring at Gale. The boy Katniss cannot help but love. My eyes rove over the horrible wounds on his back, the peace on his face from the painkillers. Gradually, that peace in his expression melts away and is replaced by pain.

I don't like watching him suffer like that, no matter who he is, so I get to my feet and start slicing up one of the loaves I had baked. It's still a little warm in the middle, so I butter one of the slices. There's a moan of pain from behind me.

"Katniss," he whispers, his tone laced with pain. I remember the Muttation that had ripped into my calf with its teeth, and wonder how Gale's pain compares. "Katni-" he mutters softly, obviously searching for her. His pause alerts me to him being awake and not finding Katniss, but seeing me stood in the kitchen instead. A long, dangerous pause. "Peeta." He does not say my name softly, but there is venom in his voice. My grip around the bread knife tightens, but I say nothing, and I do not turn around. I understand that part of me hates this boy, loathes him for the simple fact that he had found his way into Katniss' life before me, and had found his way into her heart, when I cannot.

"Where's Katniss?" He asks.

"I sent her to bed, she was exhausted."

"So you can kill me while she's gone?" I almost laugh.

"No. So she can sleep." I mutter. I still don't look at him.

"She kissed me, you know." He mumbles, his voice drowsy. The sleeping potion and painkillers haven't worn off him, and I have a feeling he'll fall back into unconsciousness soon.

"I know, she told me." It takes all of my willpower to keep my voice steady and calm. I place the knife down carefully. Gale doesn't seem to know how to answer, probably never realised that Katniss and I are on speaking terms. I finally turn to look at him, and he's glaring at me. "She kissed me, too." I remind him. "Many times." Gale laughs, but stops and winces in pain.

"That was for the Games." I want to hit him. But I can't, because he is too badly wounded already and Katniss would only disapprove more. I can't stand the idea of him knowing that all of those kisses Katniss and I shared were not for the same reasons she kissed him. Katniss kissed me for survival, rather than just for the sake of kissing me. It still hurts, and Gale is aware of that.

I can see the drowsiness already beginning to take over Gale again, although he seems to be trying to fight it. "She doesn't love you … doesn't … she loves …" If my heart were available to him, I'm sure he'd be glad to scratch at it until I can no longer bear it, and then he would scratch at it some more. That's how it feels, at least.

"I know," I whisper. "She loves you." He's already gone to the world. I fall back into the chair again, feeling numb. I want to crawl into a hole somewhere and allow darkness to swallow me up. It's all too much for one morning. Gale doesn't stir again, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Katniss' mother appears in the kitchen.

"Oh, Peeta! Good morning."

"Morning, Mrs Everdeen." I smile politely, but I want to get out of there.

"Have you been here all night?" She asks, but then notices the bread on the side. "How thoughtful, thank you for the bread."

"It's not problem." Still polite, still wanting to crawl away. Suddenly, Mrs Everdeen is stood in front of me and staring into my face with a stern expression. I'm taken by surprise and step back, unsure what to say.

"Have you slept at all, Peeta?"

"I – well, a little bit. I had a uh, a nightmare. And couldn't get back to sleep." I shrug, as if it were of no importance. Mrs Everdeen tuts and starts rooting through one of her cupboards, pulling out small vials of different liquids. She picks one out and hands it over to me.

"A sleep draught. It should keep the nightmares at bay for some sleep." She's looking at me sympathetically, with a knowing expression. I smile gratefully. Her eyes then flicker to Gale, and she starts on her inspection of his wounds. "Did he wake at all?"

"Once. An hour or so ago, but not since then." She glances up at me again, with questions in her eyes. I'm sure she's not so naïve she doesn't understand all that is going on around her. "He called for Katniss, but fell right back to sleep again." I lie. She nods, and starts her work.

"I can take it from here now, Peeta. Don't worry, I won't tell Katniss you left so early." She smiles up at me and I nod, not wanting to stay in the house for much longer.

"Okay, thank you. And thank you for this." I turn and flee the house, forgetting my coat in my haste to get out of the door and away from the pain. The snow falls heavily and I can barely see ahead of me, the wind lashing at my bare arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Sorry if there are mistakes in the chapters recently - my Beta Reader seems to be Missing In Action._

_Also, I try to update every other night, for those wondering between each update. Alternatively, you can just message me and I'll let you know when I plan to post up the next chapter! :) _

Chapter Seven

I make my way to my own house, falling into the door gratefully and with a heavy sigh. There's a chill in the house so I start up the fire, and fall onto the sofa. I try not to think about Gale, but of course I cannot think of anything else. I lose myself in the thoughts of Gale and Katniss and the heat of fire, and I'm not sure if I doze off, but the sound of the phone startles me. My first thought is that it must be Portia checking in.

"Hello?" I pick up the phone.

"Hey," it's not Portia, but Katniss' voice on the line. "I just wanted to make sure you got home." I smile briefly into the phone.

"Katniss, I live three houses away from you."

"I know, but with the weather and all."

"Well, I'm fine. Thank you for checking," I say and pause, we'd never really had a conversation on the phone. I'm not sure what to talk about, or whether I should just end the call. "How's Gale?" I ask quietly.

"All right. My mother and Prim are giving him a snow coat now." He probably won't remember our half conversation when he does wake.

"And your face?"

"I've got some, too. Have you seen Haymitch today?" She asks.

"I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread."

"I wanted to talk to – to both of you." She doesn't elaborate further and I understand why, because we have no idea who might be listening in on our phone conversations.

"Probably have to wait until after the weather calms down. Nothing much will happen before that, anyway."

"No, nothing much." She answers.

"Okay well... I'm going to go now." I say awkwardly, waiting until she says goodbye before putting the phone back down. I stare at the phone for a moment, as if it might grow legs and jump around the room.

_"She doesn't love you ..."_ The same sentence has been running through my head ever since leaving Katniss' house, making me sad and angry all at the same time. Cursing loudly, I throw a nearby lamp to the ground, plummeting the room in almost darkness. The only light is the flickering of the fire, but it does nothing to calm all of the feelings bubbling inside. I storm to the kitchen and throw open the cupboards, pulling out plates and cups, most of the crockery that I know will smash. I pull plates down so that they fall straight to the floor and smash around my feet. I throw cups across the room, getting little comfort from the loud crashing sound they make on their impact. When most of the crockery from my cupboards are in shards on the floor, I slump down into a sitting position. There are tears staining my cheeks, and cuts on my hands and feet, and I still feel no better.

I don't know how long I sit in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by broken shards of porcelain. Eventually, I get up to make myself some tea, pouring half the bottle of sleeping potion into the hot drink. I return to the living room and sit in the near darkness, staring at the dancing flames and gulping my tea. Some time in the midst of all my hatred, I manage to fall asleep.

I wake up shivering, with nothing in the fireplace to warm me and nothing but snow outside. My hands are sore and there's dried blood on them, it feels like there are some cuts on my feet, I have a slight headache, but I had no nightmares. I slept the full night, right into the afternoon. It's a good feeling.

I get up from the sofa, having to stretch out to ease out the cramping in my real limbs. I wander into the kitchen in the search of food, but groan loudly at the sight before me. I'd forgotten about my mishap, in my brief excitement over not experiencing any nightmares. With a sigh, I set about clearing up the mess I had made in my anger, feeling ashamed of myself. When all of the mess is cleared, I have to dig out a medical kit from the back of a cupboard, cleaning and wrapping up my sore hands, then cleaning the few cuts on my feet.

I get stuck in my house for three days due to the snow storm. I find some crockery that I hadn't smashed up to use for food and drinks during those days, and find myself ringing Portia a few times. Just for some social company. I consider drinking more of the sleeping potion each night, but Haymitch comes to mind and I hide it in the back of a cupboard. I don't want to end up like that, blocking out my nightmares with an aid.

As soon as there's a path through the snow for us to use, Katniss calls me and invites me to the town. I knew it wouldn't take long. We meet outside Haymitch's house and make our way inside, shaking him awake. Katniss suggests pouring water over him, but I assure her that making some strong coffee for him to smell and shaking his shoulder hard enough will rouse him. He mutters and curses at us, but it seems half hearted and it isn't long before we have him up and out of the door. None of us say anything for a long time, until the Victor Village is far behind us.

"So we're all heading off into the great unknown, are we?" Haymitch breaks the awkward silence.

"No. Not any more." Katniss replies, with a strange determination in her voice. I already know she isn't planning on leaving the District, too much is happening.

"Worked through the flaws in that plan, did you, sweetheart? Any new ideas?" He asks.

"I want to start an uprising." I'm shocked into silence, but Haymitch is laughing.

"Well, i want a drink. You let me know how that works out for you, though." He chuckles.

"Then what's your plan?" Katniss snaps at him.

"My plan is to make sure everything is just perfect for your wedding," Haymitch says calmly, and I clench my jaw. "I called and rescheduled the photo shoot without giving too many details."

"You don't even have a phone," Katniss says.

"Effie had that fixed. Do you know she asked me if I'd like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better." I walk along beside them, unsure what to say or even think.

"Haymitch," Katniss says and he mimmicks her tone.

"Katniss. It won't work." Some men shovel past us, and both of them close their mouths. We still can't say anything more once the men are out of earshot, because we're now in the Square. As soon as we see the Square, all three of us stop in our tracks. The area has been swept up, there's huge banners with the seal of Panem hanging from the roof of the Justice Building, the Peacekeepers are wearing extremely clean white uniforms and there are nests of machine guns along the rooftops. Worse is what has been built up in the centre of square – an official whipping post, some stockades and gallows. It makes me feel ill.

"Thread's a quick worker," Haymitch mutters. A couple streets away there's a large blaze, with smoke rising up high into the sky. I'm sure the building on fire is The Hob, and Katniss and Haymitch know it too. I'd been in there a few times, especially lately since returning and being more on friendly terms with Haymitch. I find that it's a friendly place to go to when I have nothing else to do, and I like spending my money there. Not to mention the bottles of white liquor I've had to buy for Haymitch's sake. I have a cupboard full at home, ever since his dry spell.

"Haymitch, you don't think everyone was still in-" Katniss doesn't finish the sentence.

"Nah, they're smarter than that. You'd be, too, if you'd been around longer. Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothercary can spare." Haymitch says, walking away without another word. Katniss turns to look at me, with puzzlement on her expression.

"What's he want that for?" She asks, but realisation dawns on her. "We can't let him drink it. He'll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I've got some white liquor put away at home."

"Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business. I need to check on my family." Not to mention buy some more plates and other things.

"I have to go see Hazelle," she says, and I remember Hazelle being Gale's mother. I notice the worry in Katniss' eyes, and know that she had probably expected Hazelle to have visited by now.

"I'll go, too. Drop by the bakery on my way home," I offer.

"Thanks." She sighs. I follow Katniss' lead and we head through the almost deserted streets. I can't help but feel like people are watching us from behind shutters and closed doors; the streets shouldn't be so quiet. It's eerie and extremely unnerving. We reach Hazelle's house, where the woman is nursing a very poor child who has broken out in measles. I stand to the side whilst the two of them converse.

"I couldn't leave her. I knew Gale'd be in the best possible hands." Hazelle says, almost apologetically.

"Of course, he's much better. My mother says he'll be back in the mines in a couple of weeks."

"May not be open until then, anyway. Word is they're closed until further notice," Hazelle informs us.

"You're closed down, too?" Katniss asks.

"Not officially. But everyone's afraid to use me now."

"Maybe it's the snow," I say, trying to be optimistic.

"No. Rory made a quick round this morning. Nothing to wash, apparently." Another small child comes up to wrap his arms around the legs of Hazelle. "We'll be all right." She tries to reassure us. Katniss pulls some money out of her pocket anyway, and places it down on the table.

"My mother will send something for Posy." We both step outside into the cold, and Katniss turns to me. "You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob."

"I'll go with you," I offer.

"No. I've dragged you into enough trouble," Katniss says and I quirk an eyebrow.

"And avoiding a stroll by the Hob ... that's going to fix things for me?"I smile at her and take her hand in my own, walking through the streets by her side. In that moment, I don't think of anything but being there for Katniss. We stop by the Hob, watching the flames beating away at the structure of the building, melting away the snow surrounding it and leaking into a black trickle over our shoes. Katniss looks down at it.

"It's all that coal dust, from the old days." She tells me. "I want to check on Greasy Sae."

"Not today, Katniss." I try to reason with her. "I don't think we'd be helping anyone by dropping in on them." Katniss nods and we walk back to the Square, dropping into the bakery, which I knew would be open. My father is stood behind the counter, and looks up at us with a smile.

"Hey, dad. Sorry I haven't been around for a while – things got a little crazy." I apologise quietly as we embrace quickly, Katniss busy picking out some cakes.

"That's all right, son. The snow has gotten a bit crazy, better to have stayed in during the blizzard." We carry on talking about the weather until Katniss has bought her cakes and we turn to leave. Pleasant conversation, nothing about the torture devices set in the middle of the square, or the new Peacekeepers with their menacing guns.

I say goodbye, promising to drop by to see my father soon. Katniss and I head back to the Victor's Village, and we part ways in front of her house. I consider offering to go in with her, but decide to head back to my own house, it feels weird when Gale is still in there recovering. I don't yet want to face him, not sure if he remembers the conversation.

Everything seems to get worse as the days pass by, and I find myself visiting the Square as little as possible. I don't want to see those I've known for all or most of my life being tortured for these supposed crimes, most of which we'd forgotten were actual crimes. It's been so long since there's been any real punishment in the District, and nobody sems to know how to handle it all. Katniss manages to get Haymitch to hire Hazelle as a housekeeper, and walking into the clean house is refreshing. The white liquor Katniss and I had stored is beginning to run out, no matter how much we try to ration what Haymitch drinks. There's no hint of Ripper getting his business back any time soon, which worries me. I don't want to experience a sober Haymitch again.

I'm pulling a fresh batch of cheese buns out of the oven when Haymitch appears in the kitchen.

"I'm not giving you another bottle, Haymitch." I sigh.

"That's not why I'm here," he says as I place the cheese buns down on a cooling tray. "We're going to Katniss' house for the evening, her mother invited us for tea yesterday." His voice is tight, and I don't remember any such invitation. I turn to frown at him, but he doesn't give me time to ask questions. "There are Peacekeepers, and I think they're waiting for Katniss. Not sure where she is, so come on now." I don't move at first, just turning to look at him in confusion. Haymitch sighs. "The fence has been put back on." He says and I don't say anything, just get changed and follow Haymitch over to Katniss' house. Her mother answers the door and lets us in with her usual pleasantry, although there's a tight edge around her lips and some strain in her voice. I'm not surprised, when I see the man and woman standing in the kitchen, in their pristine Peacekeeper uniforms. Haymitch and I act suitably surprised to see them there.

"Oh. Didn't realise we were having extra company tonight." Haymitch says, and they exchange a glance. Mrs Everdeen doesn't seem to need any explanation concerning Haymitch and I suddenly inviting ourselves over.

"We're here on official business." The woman tells us sternly.

"Yeah? What might that be?" He asks. I set down the cheese buns on the counter.

"Oh! Thank you Peeta honey, Katniss will love them." Her mother smiles at me, trying to be as pleasant as she can.

"Speaking of, where is Miss Everdeen?" The male Peacekeeper asks.

"So, what is it you want with my fiancée?" I ask casually. Despite it being fake, I realise I kind of like referring to Katniss as my fiancee.

"We cannot divulge that without Miss Everdeen present."

"Might as well get comfortable, while we wait for Miss Everdeen to finish," Haymitch mocks the Peacekeeper's use of her formal name.

The two Peacekeepers aren't very conversational, and they stand at the side of the room awkwardly whilst the rest of us act out the near happy family evening. I keep my neutral expression, but my mind is racing. The electricity is back in the fence, and Katniss isn't here. She's probably been out hunting, but with Gale? Maybe they'd realised the fence was on and couldn't get back over, maybe she decided to go through with her plan of running away, after all. But would she leave her mother and sister? No, never. That can't be it.

"How about a game of chess, boy?" Haymitch asks, and I nod my head, grateful for something to occupy my mind. We sit at the table and start up the game, but I can't concentrate properly, my fingers drumming against the side of the table, wondering what Katniss has gotten herself into now. Haymitch gives me a pointed stare, and I pause in my drumming, moving the bishop across the board and taking his knight. He nods subtly, and I put more of my attention in the small game.

The door finally opens, and I have to stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief, with the Peacekeepers eyes fixed on us. They're standing in the doorway of the kitchen and the first thing that Katniss notices.

"Hello," I hear her voice, revealing no emotion. Mrs Everdeen turns to her daughter, and keeps the carefully cheerful smile on her face, whilst I pretend to concentrate on the game before Haymitch and I.

"Here she is, just in time for dinner."

"Can I help you with something?" Katniss asks the Peacekeepers, moving into the kitchen. I glance at her quickly, but pretend I have an important move to make on the board.

"Head Peacekeeper Thread sent us with a message for you," the woman says in the official tone I've already gotten bored with.

"They've been waiting for hours," her mother cuts in. _And what a wonderfully fun few hours it has been_. I move a chess piece across the board, not even sure what piece it was.

"Must be an important message," Katniss says nonchalantly.

"May we ask where you've been, Miss Everdeen?"

"Easier to ask where I _haven't_ been," Katniss says in exasperation, turning to look at Prim, her eyes then moving to Haymitch and I.

"So where haven't you been?" Haymitch asks, with just the right amount of boredom in his tone.

"Well I haven't been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim's goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as the where he lives," she sighs, her eyes on Prim.

"No, I didn't." Prim says, playing along perfectly and not even missing a beat. "I told you exactly."

"You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine."

"The east entrance." Prim tuts and shakes her head.

"You distinctly said the west, because then I said, 'next to the slag heap?' and you said 'yeah'."

"The slag heap next to the _east_ entrance." Prim says, sounding ever the patient younger sister.

"No. When did you say that?"

"Last night," Haymitch cuts in.

"It was definitely the east," I add, turning to Haymitch with a glance. We both start laughing, acting out our roles perfectly. I'm sure we all have a pretty good idea where Katniss has been, and it certainly wasn't looking for a man about a goat. Katniss glares at me, and I stop laughing, trying to look apologetic. "I'm sorry, but it's what I've been saying. You don't listen when people talk to you."

"Bet people told you he didn't live there today and you didn't listen again," Haymitch says and Katniss huffs.

"Shut up, Haymitch." Both Haymitch and I laugh again. I find myself enjoying the back and forth banter, feeling like we really are some kind of family. The other part of me is acutely aware of the two Peacekeepers following the conversation by each person, probably trying to catch someone out lying.

"Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up," Katniss scoffs, and we laugh again. I wonder if we really will have to get the goat pregnant, in order to keep up with our fabrication. Katniss turns her attention to the Peacekeepers; the man is smiling, convinced by our show, but the woman is sharper.

"What's in the bag?" she demands sharply, and I panic a little._ Oh god, please don't have brought the game home, please, please, please..._

"See for yourself," Katniss says after turning the bag upside down to dump the contents on the table.

"Oh, good," Mrs Everdeen says, picking up some cloth. "We're running low on bandages." I get up and wander over to the table, glancing at the objects on the table. There's a bag of sweets, which I open up.

"Ooh, peppermints," I say pleasantly, sticking one in my mouth.

"They're mine." Katniss tries to grab the bag, but I'm already throwing it to Haymitch, who manages to catch it and stuff a handful of the sweets in his mouth. The bag is passed on to a giggling Prim.

"None of you deserves sweets!" Katniss huffs again.

"What, because we're right?" I ask, moving in closer and snaking my arms around her frame. I'm still the fiancee, have to play my part. She yelps in pain when my hands touch a part of her back. She tries to cover the noise into indignation for the Peacekeepers, but I know that she's hurt, so loosen my grip a little. "Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we're all idiots. How's that?"

"Better," she says, and we kiss quickly. She then turns to the Peacekeepers again. "You have a message for me?"

"From Head Peacekeeper Thread. He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day." The woman says. It's obvious she isn't happy about not catching out Katniss.

"Didn't it already?" Katniss asks innocently.

"He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your cousin," the woman says.

"Thank you. I'll tell him. I'm sure we'll all sleep a little more soundly now that security has addressed that lapse," Katniss says and I try not to groan. She cannot help herself. The woman looks even less happy. She nods curtly and turns to leave. Katniss stays as she is until the front door is locked, then slumping against the side of the table, allowing the pain to show in her expression.

"What is it?" I ask, whilst keeping a steady hold on her.

"Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone's had a bad day, too." I help her across the kitchen to sit down. Her mother is instantly there, slowly pulling off her boots.

"What happened?" She asks.

"I slipped and fell," I look at her in surprise, and I'm sure everyone else does, too. "On some ice." She adds, not divulging anything else. Not trusting to speak freely in her own home. Mrs Everdeen does a check up on her injuries, and Haymitch and I take a seat, knowing we aren't needed. I pop another peppermint in my mouth and keep a watchful eye on Katniss, without staring. It isn't until Katniss' foot is wrapped up and her eyes are beginning to droop that I stand up.

"I'll take her up to bed, if you'd like?" I offer, and Mrs Everdeen nods her head with a smile.

"Yes, Peeta, thank you."

I help Katniss to her feet and we stumble along a little ways, but I just swoop her up into my arms and carry Katniss up the stairs, her head leaning onto my shoulder. I lower her onto her bed carefully and pull the cover over her. Just as I'm about to say goodbye and leave, Katniss catches my hand and pulls me back. She pauses, as if wondering what to say, and I feel that automatically climbing into the bed with her would be the wrong thing to do.

"Don't go yet. Not until I fall asleep," she finally says. I lower to sit down on the side of the bed and cup her hand in both of mine to warm it up.

"Almost thought you'd changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner," I tell her.

"No, I'd have told you," she mumbles sleepily, and I can't help but smile. She pulls my hand up to her face and leans her cheek against the back of it, already falling into unconsciousness. "Stay with me," she mutters again. I smile and brush the hair from her face so I can see her fully, and the peace washing over her expression. I kiss her forehead gently, and whisper into her skin.

"Always."


	8. Chapter 8

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

Chapter Eight

Katniss is left mostly bedridden, as instructed by her mother. And for once, she doesn't argue with us but allows her mother to nurse her back to health. I think a part of her is dispirited. I wander down to the bakery one evening, and notice there isn't a hum in the fence, and there's talk of the Peacekeepers fixing the base of the chain links, which means less Peacekeepers in the square. It is a family night in the Bakery, so even my brothers are sat at the dinner table, and in good spirits.

"Peeta! About time you showed your face around here!" Gareth cries as I walk in the room, which makes me laugh.

"Sorry, things got a bit hectic. I'm here now, though."

"And about time, too. You've missed the big news." My brows knit together in a frown, wondering what it could be. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if it has something to do with Katniss or the Peacekeepers. Lukail strides into the room with a large grin crawling across his lips, he looks happier than anybody I've seen in a long time.

"I'm engaged, little brother." I pause for a moment, but then laugh again in my shock and joy. I'd been so caught up in my own business with Katniss and the others, that I had forgotten my family are living lives of their own.

"That's fantastic, Lukail! Worthy of a celebration." My mother tuts and shakes her head across the room, displaying her feelings on the matter rather obviously. I hope she doesn't do so in front of my brother's fiancee. I embrace my brother and we all sit at the table and eat our dinner, and my mother even manages to be polite. Even though I am excited and happy for my brother, there's a blossom of jealousy in the pit of my mind. That he is engaged, and to a woman who truly loves him. There is no doubt of the love between my eldest brother and the woman he will name his wife, and they will live a hapily married life. I wonder what the future has in store for Katniss and I, and whether there is any possibility of some happiness in our marriage to come.

I visit Katniss the next morning with a fresh batch of cheese buns, which I have been making a lot of ever since finding out they are her favourite. I sit on a chair beside her bed as she nibbles on one of them, watching her closely.

"The fence is turned off," I say and she turns to look at me with a quirk in her brow. "The Peacekeepers are fixing the base of the chain links. Thread must think you've been wriggling under the electric current." I smirk a little, and notice her surpress a smile of her own.

"Peeta, will you help me with ... a project I am doing?" She asks timidly, reching for something on her bedside table.

"Of course, if I'm able to help at all." I answer instantly, with a slight shrug of one shoulder. She hands me the book that she's holding in her hands and I flick through the old pages, which are full of different plants. Beside the illustrations are an explanation of what they are, and I notice that against some of them are extra scrawlings in a handwriting I do not know.

"I was wondering if you could help me to draw some plants I want to add to it. I'm not very good at drawing myself, but I can explain the ones you don't already know and – and we have some pressing of flowers." She talks quickly and nervously, as if afraid I might refuse her. Which is absurd.

"Of course I'll help you, Katniss." I laugh gently, with a warm smile. There's the flicker of a smile on her face. "What is this, anyway?" I ask, turning the book over in my hands.

"It's from my mother's family. The herbalists would draw out the plants and their uses and then my father – he wrote down which ones were edible. It helped me a lot, when I remembered about it. I used it to feed us all, in the beginning." I look at her fully whilst she explains, notice the brief pain in her expression at the mention of her father. She glances at me, most likely noticing my stare. She averts her gaze quickly, and explains about a plant that she wants to start on.

I spend the next few days helping my father start up at the bakery, and then rushing to Katniss' house with some cheese buns and my paints. We spend hours over the book of plants. She makes me practice out each drawing until satisfied it is true to the plant, and then I draw it in the book. When the drawing is complete, Katniss writes out everything she knows about each plant. I find these quiet hours, with Katniss watching me draw, and I watching Katniss write, are my happiest hours in the day. One afternoon, I finish the shading on one of the plants and look up at Katniss. I've felt her eyes on me for a long time, as I usually do when I fall into the drawing stage. When I look up at her, Katniss starts and almost jumps back.

"You know, I think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together," I muse.

"Yeah. Nice for a change." She replies and I nod my head in agreement, thinking of how so far our relationship has been based from the Games. When we finish in the book on afternoons, I carry Katniss down the stairs and she often turns on the television. I'm not sure what she expects to find when the screen flickers to life. I try not to go into the town much, unless it's absolutely necessary. Haymitch drops by the house upon occasion with news of more people being punished, or people dying and collapsing from their starvation. Things in the District just seem to be on a constant decline.

"There's a mandatory programming tonight," my father tells me casually as we work side by side. I glance at him, my hand paused in my kneading, brows forming a deep frown.

"What for?" I ask him, returning my hands to the soft dough on the counter.

"Nobody is positive. Been a few people in speculating, someone thinks it's something to do with your fiancee's wedding dresses." There's no obvious emotion in his expression, but his voice is tight. My father knows all of my feelings on the matter of this wedding, and is probably the only one in the District, apart from Katniss and Haymitch.

"Should I even be seeing that? I thought the groom isn't to see the bride's dress beforehand." I think out loud, and my father only shrugs and grunts.

"Probably some announcement or other to accompany it. Know what President Snow is like, he likes his dramatics." I manage half a smile and finish up the bread, sticking it in the oven with my father's. He looks at me suddenly. "Do you want to stay here to watch it?" I know exactly what it is he isn't saying. Do I want the support of my family?

"That's okay, I'll watch it from home." I say with a smile. My father nods and says nothing more on the subject.

That night I sit in front of the crackling fire with the television in the corner of my living room switched on, flickering in the shadows of the room. I sip half heartedly at a mug of tea that is gradually cooling in my hands. Ceasar Flickerman is on the screen, talking about shots of the different wedding dresses. Seeing Katniss in them has left me both exhilirated and sick to my stomach. A wedding. A wedding with Katniss as my bride. A wedding neither of us particularly want. I don't want this fake wedding, it's a sham for the sake of the Capitol and the President. I get up to turn the television off, not wanting to see any more of this charade, but Ceasar stops me. He tells the audience to all stand by for the next big event.

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!" He shouts out to an excited crowd. I fall back into my chair, staring at the screen. The next Games aren't for months to come, and I don't know why there are nerves fluttering around my stomach. I am a Victor, Katniss is a Victor, and we no longer have to play in the Games. But we will be made to mentor the future Tributes, and the announcement tonight will affect them.

President Snow is suddenly on my screen, which is almost enough to make me switch it off again. A young boy in a white suit accompanies him, holding a wooden box. In that wooden box is a card, telling us what will happen this year in the Quarter Quell. The President drones on about the Games and tells the audience about what happened in the previous Quarter Quells. The boy steps forward with the wooden box, holding it out to the President and opening the lid. There are envelopes inside, marking each Quarter Quell and the ideas on them. The man doesn't even hesitate before reading the words on the card.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the powers of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors." I drop the mug to the floor, where it bounces on the carpet and spills lukewarm tea across the floor and nearby wall. I continue to stare at the screen, the President's voice echoing through my mind.

_"...from their existing pool of victors." _Victors. That means Haymitch, Katniss and I. That means Katniss is going back into the arena. I jump to my feet and storm out of the house, without bothering to pick up a coat or any boots. I barely feel the stones under my bare feet when I walk across the street, entering Haymitch's house. There's light spilling into his clean hallway from the kitchen, and I hear a television going silent. He doesn't even look up when I walk into the kitchen. I notice the bottle in his hand, and another on the counter.

"Ripper is back in business then." I comment, but he doesn't answer. Only lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a large mouthful, gulping it down without a wince. "You saw the announcement." It's not a question, and still Haymitch says nothing. "You know why I'm here," I step further into the kitchen and he finally looks up at me. He's steady in his seat, because he's only had a few mouthfuls from the bottle. I've arrived before he falls into his usual drunken stupor.

"You want to save her," he says. I nod my head.

"I want to go into the arena, keep her safe." Haymitch barks in sharp laughter, swigging from the bottle again.

"Of course you do, boy. What makes you think I can't go in and protect her?" He asks loudly, pointing the bottle at me and almost spilling the liquor all over his table.

"Because you'll probably be suffering from alcohol depravation, and would be curled in a corner of the arena." I spit at him, the anger bubbling under the surface. I fight to keep it down. Again, I receive no answer. Another mouthful of liquor. He'll be passed out in a few hours if he keeps at this rate.

"You owe me, Haymitch." He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth, possibly some retort or question of how I figured that out. "You chose her last time, and left me to die. So now, you owe me. I want to go back in the arena to save her." His eyes meet mine.

"If you're sure this is what you want, boy."

"If they reap your name, I'm going to volunteer. If they call my name, I don't want you to do the same." I state plainly. He nods his head, and looks away again. I look at him once more, thinking of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. I turn and leave the house, heading straight for my own. I fall into the door and lock it behind me. In a kitchen cupboard, I pull out a small vial of liquid and tip it into my mouth. It's bitter, and my face screws up at the taste. But it's not long before I feel drowsy, so I make it up to my bed, automatically unstrapping my fake leg. Tonight, I don't want any nightmares, because I know what they will be of. Tonight, I do not want to visit the arena again and watch Katniss die. My head hits the pillow and unconsciousness folds in at the corners of my mind.

I wake the next morning feeling drowsy and too warm. I hadn't opened my window before falling into bed, and I always hate waking up in the heat. It feels much better with a breeze sweeping through the room. I roll into a sitting position and strap on my leg, making my way to the bathroom. After a quick bath, I dress in warm clothes and leave the house. It's late in the morning, so I stop by Katniss' house, wondering how she is handling the news of the night before. Mrs Everdeen answers the door when I knock gently, and she looks at me with a sheepish expression.

"Oh, Peeta. Good morning."

"Morning, Mrs Everdeen. I just thought I would come back and see how Katniss is doing ..." I allow the sentence to trail off, because we both know why.

"Well, she's still in bed at the moment. I have a feeling she will be ... for a few more hours." I frown a little in confusion, and Mrs Everdeen sighs. "She went to visit Haymitch after the – the announcement. She came home drunk." I raise my eyebrows in surprise, and my lips part whilst I try to think of something to say.

"Oh," I manage to croak. "Well okay then, I'll pop by some other time." I manage to smile and turn to walk away. I pause in the street, debating what to do. I want to storm to Haymitch's house and shout at him for allowing her to get drunk. But it will be of no use, and I know that getting drunk will have been all Katniss' decision. Haymitch just provided the liquor. Squaring my jaw, I head in to town.

"P-Peeta! Surprise to see you here, thought Haymitch bought enough for himself." Ripper says, after hushing me into her home. It had taken me almost an hour to find where she lives.

"That's not why I'm here, Ripper. It's a bit more ... unpleasant, really." I say, not sure now that I'm here. But I remember President Snow's announcement, and stand myself tall, staring the woman in the eyes. "From now on, I need you to stop selling your liquor to Haymitch. And Katniss." I say with a surprisingly level voice.

"Stop ... what on earth you chattering about, boy? Think because you're a Victor you can come here demanding things and – and-" she begins, sounding affronted.

"I think the Peacekeepers might be interested in how you run your business, Ripper." And she stops short at my threat, glancing me up and down with new eyes. I don't want to threaten this woman, but I know it's the only way. I need Haymitch to stop drinking, and I need Katniss to not start drinking.

"You threatening me, boy?" There's a fierceness in her eyes.

"Yes, because that's what it will take. If you continue to sell your liquor to Haymitch or Katniss, then I will be forced to tell the Peacekeepers that you're running a business in your home." I reach into my pocket and pull out some coins, dropping them in her hand. "Here's some money for your trouble. Will you do as I ask?" I ask, with one eyebrow lifted. She sighs, briefly counting the coins in her hand and shoving them in her pocket.

"Seems you've given me no choice. Haymitch won't be getting any more liquor from me." She says and I nod in satisfaction.

"One more thing – do you have a cardboard box I could use?" With a box in hand, I make my way back to the Victor's Village and walk straight in to Haymitch's house. He lifts his head from the table bleary eyed, looks at me, and then lowers his head again. I ignore him and start pulling out bottles of alcohol from his cupboards, draining the contents into the sink and placing the empty bottles in the box. I make my way through the house, picking out all the bottles I know he has hidden, and checking hiding places for any more I might not know of. It takes a long time but I finally finish, and make my way downstairs to where Haymitch is. He's awake now, and Katniss is sat at the table beside him. I dump the box full with empty bottles onto the table.

"There, it's done." Haymitch can barely see what's in front of him, not sure what it is he's looking at.

"What's done?" Katniss asks.

"I've poured all the liquor down the drain." I tell them both. Haymitch jumps up and starts pulling out the bottles in the box, looking for any signs of liquor.

"You what?" He cries in desbelief.

"I tossed the lot."

"He'll just buy more," Katniss says.

"No, he won't. I tracked down Ripper this morning and told her I'd turn her in the second she sold to either of you. I paid her off, too, just for good measure, but I don't think she's eager to be back in the Peacekeepers' custody." Haymitch swipes at me with the knife that is usually in his hand, but his movement is so slow and unsteady I easily dodge him.

"What business is it of yours what he does?" Katniss snaps in anger.

"It's completely my business. However it falls out, two of us are going to be in the arena again with the other as mentor. We can't afford any drunkards on this team. Especially not you, Katniss." I say, giving her a pointed look.

"What?" She sputters, looking shocked and embarrassed. "Last night's the only time I've ever even been drunk."

"Yeah, and look at the shape you're in." I've no time to be polite. Katniss turns to look at Haymitch.

"Don't worry, I'll get you more liquor." She tells him, and I bite back the anger.

"Then I'll turn you both in. Let you sober up in the stocks."

"What's the point to this?" Haymitch asks.

"The point is that two of us are coming home from the Capitol. One mentor and one victor. Effie's sending me some recordings of all the living victors. We're going to watch their games and learn everything we can about how they fight. We're going to put on weight and get strong. We're going to start acting like Careers. And one of us is going to be victor again whether you like it or not!" I storm from the room and slam the door behind me, leaving them both to stew in their misery. I say one of us, but I mean that Katniss and Haymitch are going to be coming home. I will do everything in my power to make it happen, and that means taking controlling. I realise that I haven't actually called Effie, so make my way back to my house and pick up the phone.

"Peeta! Oh my god Peeta, I can't believe it!" Effie shrieks down the phone after I introduce myself. It takes a few minutes to calm her down enough to speak to her.

"Effie! I need your help with something. I want all the recordings of every living Victor, so we can learn everything about their fighting skills."

"Oh, of course. I can do that for you. I'll get right on it and send them over."

"Thank you, Effie." I sigh in relief, because at least that's something out of the way and off my mind.

"How are you doi-" Effie begins, but I cut her off.

"Sorry Effie, I have to go now. Speak to you soon." I say briskly and hang up. I don't want to talk about how I am doing. I don't want to have any time to even think about how I am doing. I spend the rest of the day in the bakery.

It takes a few days, but eventually Haymitch and Katniss and agree to work with me in order to get to know the other Victors, and act like Careers. I spend most of my free hours watching the tapes that Effie had sent me, and scribbling down all of the information I can gather. Haymitch offers up some information about the personalities of the other Victors to help us as well, since he had met them all multiple times over the years. We start to understand a lot of basic information about those that we might be pitted against in a couple months.

We all do regular excercise and activities in order to strengthen our bodies. Mornings are dedicated to excercises, afternoons are for combat skills with weapons, and evenings are our breaks. Nobody tries to stop us from our training, even though it's not officially allowed. Perhaps they don't know that that is what we are doing, but rather think we have gone mad. As expected, Haymitch is the hardest on his improvements. Short runs leave him out of breath, although it's noticable that he's still strong. His hands are shaking constantly, so in combat excercises he can barely hit anything purposefully. Katniss and I do extremely well under the new regimen and those closest to us all help in their own way. Mrs Everdeen starts to control our diets to build up our muscles and keep away the fat, Madge slips us Capitol newspapers that were her father's, Prim treats our sore muscles after particularly hard excercise days, and Gale even stops by to teach us about snares. Having Gale there on a regular basis is awkward at first, but find that we both ease into an almost friendship. It's still a little tense, but I think that is mostly our own fault, trying desperately to hate the other person. Gale isn't that bad of a person, when he's not on morphling.


	9. Chapter 9

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

Chapter Nine

I sit in the kitchen with Haymitch one night, and he's looking at me wearily, as if trying to figure something out.

"She's going to try and save me, isn't she?" I ask, and he only nods his head. It's an odd thing, conversing with a sober Haymitch on a daily basis, and I find myself visiting him more often so that he's not alone. Even when he's conscious, Haymitch has nightmares to fight off. "Figured as much," I mumble, finishing off the tea from my cup.

"She still owes you, in her reckoning. We both do, boy." I glance up at him sharply, panicking that he might have changed his mind.

"You promised me, Haymitch. Remember, you promised to help me save her."

"I know, boy. I know." He mutters, avoiding my gaze. That's when I realise Katniss and Haymitch have been cooking up their own plan to save me.

The next morning I call Portia and ask her to run a special errand for me. At first, she's confused but eventually agrees after I explain fully. That evening, I search for Gale's house. He's at the mines all day so there's no point in trying to find him then; my only chance is at night when all the miners are allowed to go home. Hazelle answers the door and is surprised to see me standing on the other side.

"Peeta!" She just stares at me a moment, then she seems to remember her manners. "Sorry, what are you doing here, is everything all right?"

"Yes, um yes, fine. I was just wondering if I could speak to Gale?"

"I'll go get him, come on in." I step into the house and close the door behind me, standing awkwardly in the hall whilst Hazelle calls for Gale, and a smaller child calls back. Gale sees me standing at his door and a range of emotions flicker through his eyes. He obviously hasn't learned to close them off like Katniss has. Surprise at seeing me, a hard glare, something I don't recognize, and then worry.

"Peeta, what's going on? Is Katniss okay?" He asks quickly and I realise what my being here would mean to him.

"Oh, yes. She's fine, I think. I just – I need a favor." Now he doesn't know what to say. He steps back and leans against a wall, arms folded over his chest as he stares me down.

"So, what kind of favor?"

"I need a way to uhm- to remind Katniss why she is – why she needs to come home. I need a photo of you." I stutter, and Gale's brows furrow in a frown.

"A photo? Why would I give you a photo of me?" He asks, and I try not to sigh in my frustration.

"Do you want her to come home, or not?" We seem to stare at one another for I don't know how long, but finally he stands up and breathes out a long sigh. "I'll be back in a minute." I nod my head and go back to my awkward standing. I don't even understand why I feel so nervous in front of him. I'm torn between not liking him, and thinking that there's a chance we could have been friends in different circumstances. He returns with a small photo, although I'll need to get Portia to resize it when we reach the Capitol. He hands it over, although his hands pausing for a fraction, making me look up into his face.

"This would all be so much easier, if I could hate you." He mutters, and I nod my head, understanding what he means. Gale isn't a bad person, we just happen to love the same girl. I don't say anything to him, because no words come to mind. I slip the photo into my pocket and turn, pulling the door open. I step outside, but Gale's voice makes me pause.

"Peeta, I'm sorry." I glance back at him with a questioning look. "I know that I said some hurtful things. I'm sorry for that." Again, I nod and say nothing. I shut the door behind me and walk away, back to my own home and to bed. Tomorrow is the Reaping Day.

–

The Reaping doesn't take long, and Effie doesn't seem her usual chirpy self. She's rather reserved, with just enough enthusiasm for the cameras. I don't understand why they insist on putting one slip of paper in one of the large bowls for Effie to pull out, because everybody knows whose name is on that piece of paper. And nobody in the crowd can volunteer for her. We all watch Effie step to the other bowl and reach in.

_Please be Haymitch, please be Haymitch, please be-_

"Haymitch Abernathy!" I breathe a sigh of relief, stepping forward and volunteering myself in his place. If it had been my name, then I wasn't entirely sure whether Haymitch would stick to our agreement. I wouldn't be able to undo his volunteer if it had been the other way around. Once that business is over, thoughts of my final goodbyes run through my mind. I have to tell my family I love them, and prepare them for the blow. I won't be coming back this time, and they will have to go on without me. This won't take much. They may grieve for a while, but their lives will move on easily without me. Lukail will marry his girl from the Seam; Gareth will stay to help at the Bakery for a while. Mother and father will get old, and one of them will inherit the Bakery. And it will l go on without me.

Thread is waiting in the Justice Building for us, with an odd smile on his face. "New procedure," he says and I already feel my stomach start to drop. We don't stop, but the Peacekeepers usher us out of the back door and into a car, which drives us straight to the train station. We step straight on to the train, without a crowd and cameras to flash and shout at us. Haymitch and Effie appear at our side, with guards to push them on their way. The wheels on the train move, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the wall. Katniss looks as shocked as I do, staring out the window at the disappearing District Twelve. The two of us stay where we are for a long while, even after the District is long gone behind us.

"We'll write letters, Katniss." I get her attention. "It will be better, anyway. Give them a piece of us to hold on to. Haymitch will deliver them for us if … they need to be delivered." She nods, and leaves me in the hall without a word. I return to my own room and sit on the bed for a while, staring at the wall across from me and going through the conversations I had planned beforehand. I had planned every single word I was going to say, but now they mean nothing. They would mean nothing if I wrote them down, but their lives will go on.

_Their lives will go on, their lives will go on. _I keep repeating the sentence in my head, like my own mantra. It's the only small comfort I can allow for myself. A knock on the door makes me jump, and Effie's voice follows, calling me to dinner. I don't bother changing, but make my way straight to the dining cart, where Haymitch is already sat. He looks gloomy, and I notice that he still isn't drinking. When Effie notices this, she makes the attendant take her glass of wine away. I know that Haymitch would rather be drinking heavily, and if he had been able to volunteer to go back in the arena, there would have been nothing stopping him.

The entire dinner is a gloomy affair, and Effie and I are the only ones who attempt any conversation, whilst Haymitch and Katniss mostly ignore us. There are long pauses, when the only sound is knives and forks scraping against plates. I'm relieved when we finally finish our meal, and Effie suggests we watch the recap of the Reaping's. Everyone agrees, and I quickly grab my notebooks to scrawl down any extra notes we can think of. We sit and watch the Recap, and it is only Effie who speaks. Making her own comments about each Tribute, and sighing regularly. I scribble a star next to each person who gets reaped and is going into the arena.

When it's all finished, Haymitch gets up and leaves the room without a word. Effie makes a few comments, and then bids us goodnight before leaving to go to bed. I rip out the pages we won't need, of those who aren't going into the arena, whilst Katniss sits on the other sofa in silence.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" I ask, and she pauses for a brief moment.

"What are you going to do?" Katniss asks, and I wonder that myself. I certainly don't feel like going to sleep just yet, I look down at my own handwriting.

"Just review my notes a while. Get a clear picture of what we're up against. But I'll go over it with you in the morning. Go to bed, Katniss." I tell her. Last time we were on a train, we spent the nights together, with her sometimes curled into my side. It helped to ward off the worst of the nightmares, but the two of us have barely had any contact since the night of Gale's whipping. Katniss leaves me in my own silence, and I spend hours reading over all the notes I have, until I know them all backwards. After that, I get my tapes of the previous Victors, and re-watch all the ones of those who we will be facing in the arena. Katniss walks in the room, and I jump up, stopping the video.

"Couldn't sleep?" I ask.

"Not for long," she says, pulling her robe tight around her frame.

"Want to talk about it?" I ask, knowing she had a nightmare. Katniss shakes her head, looking lost in her thoughts and probably the memory of what had haunted her sleep. I open my arms out, and she doesn't hesitate before walking into them. I fold her in my arms, and realise this is the first time we've been affectionate to each other since the announcement. Her arms snake around my neck and I pull her tightly to me, burying my face into her hair and kissing her gently on the neck. I allow myself this one moment; to inhale her scent, to feel her close, to love her.

I don't want to break from her, and she holds me tightly and doesn't seem to want to let me go either. A Capitol attendant walks into the room, so we step back from one another. He's holding a tray, with what looks like warm milk and some glasses.

"I brought an extra cup," he says, his eyes flicking to me.

"Thanks," Katniss replies.

"And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice," the attendant carries on. He looks at us, with what I think is the ghost of something else on his lips, but shakes his head and leaves the room.

"What's with him?" Katniss asks.

"I think he feels bad for us," I murmur.

"Right," Katniss pours the milk out into the glasses.

"I mean it. I don't think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in. Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions."

"I'm guessing they'll get over it once the blood starts flowing." Katniss says without a hint of emotion. I'm not sure if I agree. "So you're watching all the tapes again?" she asks after a moment's pause.

"Not really. Just sort of skipping around to see people's different fighting techniques." I shrug, picking up the box of tapes.

"Who's next?"

"You pick," I hold the box out to her. She digs through and picks one out; I see the flash of a name on the side. Haymitch Abernathy.

"We never watched this one," Katniss says. I shake my head.

"No. I knew Haymitch didn't want to. The same way we didn't want to relive our own Games. And since we're all on the same team, I didn't think it mattered much."

"Is the person who won in twenty-five in here?" Katniss asks.

"I don't think so. Whoever it was must be dead by now, and Effie only sent me victors we might have to face." I hold the tape, deliberating. "Why? You think we ought to watch it?"

"It's the only Quell we have. We might pick up something valuable about how they work," Katniss reasons, but we're both thinking the same thing. It would be an invasion of Haymitch's privacy. "We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it."

"Okay," I agree and we curl up on the sofa to watch the video. It's an editor's mash of the Games, and it's amazing how many children are Tributes before we get to District Twelve. Double the Tributes, but it just looks like so many right before us. We get to District Twelve and the camera zooms in on a young woman in the crowd, called Maysilee.

"Oh! She was my mother's friend." Another young woman hugs Maysilee, and I recognize the face, although she is much younger.

"I think that's your mother hugging her." I point out quietly. There's also another girl on the screen, hugging the first.

"Madge."

"That's her mother. She and Maysilee were twins or something." I tell her, remembering my dad mention something like that. "My dad mentioned it once." Haymitch's name comes up last, and he looks so different on the screen. He looks like a young, strong man with a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Oh. Peeta, you don't think he killed Maysilee, do you?" Katniss suddenly asks.

"With forty-eight players? I'd say the odds are against it." I try to reassure her. Since there are forty-eight players, there's a lot more footage for the editors to mash together, so it's a flash of different pieces of footage. There's extra footage of Haymitch, because he was the victor of those Games. We watch the video in mostly silence, but the force field Haymitch throws rocks at grabs my interest. I remember the top of the Training Centre, and Cinna showing me how it throws your hand back. When the footage ends and I switch the video off, the two of us are stunned into silence for a little while.

"That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Centre. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon." I'm mostly just thinking out loud, to stop the silence drawing on for too long.

"Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too. You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!" Another memory comes to mind, of Haymitch looking like he understood my love for Katniss. Of wondering whether he once had someone he loved. Did the Capitol kill them to punish Haymitch for using the force field? Katniss starts laughing all of a sudden, and I shake my head at her. I think she might have lost her mind partially.

"Almost, but not quite," Haymitch's voice sounds from behind us, making me jump. Both our heads whip round to look at him. He smirks and takes a large swig from his wine bottle, looking unsteady on his feet. Well, there goes our sober mentor.

–

My Prep Team is near hysterical when I reach the Training Centre, and it only seems to get worse as they work on my body. It's a routine I'm so used to, that I barely notice their hands on me and the ripping of my body hair. Actually, the body hair is a little hard to ignore. I tune out the crying, the shrieks of how they can't believe it, of how it's just so unfair. I only relax when Portia sweeps into the room, and shoos away the Prep team.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you," I sigh, and rush forward to hug her. She laughs and hugs me back tentatively, then pushing me back gently.

"Peeta darling, perhaps you should put your robe on." She quirks an eyebrow and I jump back, the blood rushing up my neck and across my face. I had hugged her naked. I shrug the robe on, avoiding Portia's laughing gaze. I ease up when she orders lunch, and we eat together whilst catching up on events that cannot get us into trouble. I think I will have to take Portia up to the roof, so we can talk frankly, and I can tell her everything on my mind.

"So are you going to leave me in suspense, or are you going to tell me what my outfit is for today?" I ask, once I've eaten a second helping. "You're not going to set me on fire again, are you?" I ask her suspiciously. Portia laughs and shakes her head.

"We can't do the same thing again, that won't make them notice you. Although, Cinna and I have been watching a lot of fires." I sigh, and shake my head.

"All right, let's get this over with. I know you're just _dying_ to show me." Portia laughs in glee, and jumps to her feet. I follow her with less enthusiasm, but frown in confusion when I see the black jumpsuit she's holding out to me. It's pretty plain, so I know that there's some trick to it. I get dressed quickly with the aid of Portia, and she styles my hair with the glop from last year, then touches up my face with some make up. No doubt this is to make my face shimmer in a particular light. The final touch is a black metal half-crown on the top of my head, similar to the one I had received as Victor last year.

"And now, for show time," Portia trills, turning the lights down and pressing a button on the inside of my wrist. The jumpsuit comes to life as a soft, golden light, but it blossoms into the orange red of burning coals. It's fascinating and I find myself entranced by the colors.

"This is amazing, Portia. You're both fantastic designers," I can't help but gush. Portia chuckles and steps to me, cradling my face in her soft, manicured hands.

"It'll be okay, Peeta. I'm sure it will all work out." Portia tells me, with such determination. I can't tell her that I don't plan on coming back out. Not just yet, at least. There will be a time for that. There's a pause between us, and then Portia turns the pack off in my sleeve. "Don't want it running out halfway through the Chariot ride," she says quietly and I suddenly feel bad, but for what I'm not sure. "Today we don't want you to be smiling and waving. Today, we need the powerful, straight faced Peeta and Katniss, and for you to act almost as if the crowd is beneath you." I nod my head, drumming my fingers against my real leg. "Well, I need to check up on a few things, but you can head down to the Remake Centre if you'd like." I don't understand the emotions currently running through Portia, so I place my hand firmly on her shoulder.

"Portia, are you okay?" I frown a little. She turns to me with tears in her eyes and folds me in a sudden, tight hug.

"I'm just so worried for you! Oh why do they have to do this! It's just not fair, not fair to either of you." There's definite crying and I hug her tightly for a moment before letting go, having to pull myself together.

"Come on now, you don't want me to ruin this entire wonderful make up, do you?" I ask, trying to sound aghast, and it makes Portia laugh just a little. Finally she calms down enough, so I make my way down to the Remake Centre, which is our gathering place. When I step out, I notice how different the atmosphere is to last year. Everything seems more social, and there are people flitting back and forth, talking to the other Tributes. I remember that most of these people are friends, and have known one another for a long time. I scan the small crowd in search of Katniss, and see her by our chariot next to the horses. I also notice the near naked young man at her side.

Finnick. There's no mistaking the supposedly beautiful man who has captured the hearts of Lord knows how many women in the Capitol. Some people refer to him as being at a legendary status in Panem, with his desire for so many women. So many broken hearts left in his path. He's leaning in to Katniss, his eyes glued to her face, and his lips moving slowly as he whispers something that makes Katniss blush. I push the jealousy from the pit of my stomach, and stride across the room towards them. Finnick's eyes flicker to me; he says something to Katniss and walks away.

"What did Finnick Odair want?" I ask Katniss, when I reach her side. She turns to me, and her lips are just inches from mine, her eyelids drop a little. It's confusing and captivating, all at the same time. I wonder if she can hear the hammering of my heartbeat.

"He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets," she tells me in a low, seductive voice. I wish she would stop, but at the same time I wish she wouldn't.

"Ugh. Not really," I say, swallowing hard. Katniss pulls back, and I lose some of the tension in my shoulders.

"Really. I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling." Well, at least she isn't attracted to him.

"Do you think we'd have ended up like this is only one of us had won?" I ask her, my eyes roving around the room at the people in the room. "Just another part of the freak show?"

"Sure. Especially you." I smile.

"Oh. And why especially me?"

"Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't. They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely." She isn't entirely wrong about the beautiful things, considering Katniss is my biggest weakness, and the most beautiful girl I've ever come across.

"Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness," I say. "Except possibly when it comes to you." The music begins playing, saving Katniss from having to answer me. The doors are opening for the first chariot, so I hold my hand out to Katniss. "Shall we?" I help her into the chariot, and she reaches down to help pull me up.

"Hold still," she says, reaching up to adjust the half-crown atop my head. "Have you seen your suit turned on? We're going to be fabulous again."

"Absolutely. But Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything. Where are they, anyway?" I ask, noticing their absence, when last year they had been all over us with their adjustments.

"I don't know. Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on." We both reach into our sleeves and flick the buttons. Already, people are pointing to us and chattering excitedly. Still, no Portia and Cinna. "Are we supposed to hold hands this year?" Katniss asks me.

"I guess they've left it up to us." Katniss turns her head to me, and her eyes lock onto mine. I find myself lost in her grey eyes, wondering what she might be thinking. We don't say anything, but our hands find each other, our fingers entangling in a tight lock.

The Chariot rolls out into the light, and the crowd seems to explode in their cheering. Yet, we do not enjoy it like we had the year before. I stare straight ahead of me, keeping my face unemotional and hard, whilst Katniss does the same. I glimpse us on the screen, and we seem so powerful, dark, and unforgiving of the crowd and all that we have suffered. We loop round into the City Circle, where all of the Chariots have stopped. In front of us, there are a few of Tributes who have been forced into costumes that illuminate them. All imitations of the wonders Portia and Cinna have done with our costumes. For a moment, I feel very proud of my Capitol friend. I continue to stare ahead of me when President Snow steps up, and welcomes us all to the Quell. The anthem plays, and I still do not phase in my hard gaze in the last trip, to the Training Centre. Cinna and Portia are waiting inside the doors to greet us, and congratulate us on our performance. Haymitch is stood by the District Eleven chariot, and nods at us when he notices our arrival. The two Tributes from District Eleven follow him across to us. The male Tribute Chaff suddenly kisses Katniss on the cheek, making her stumble a little in shock. I try to think nothing of it. The female Tribute Seeder embraces Katniss without a word, and I hear Katniss murmur something to her. I don't catch the exact words, but have a feeling I know what she's asking.

The Capitol attendants direct us all to the elevators, and I realise it must be odd for them to see all of the Tributes socialize with one another, and embrace. Katniss is still grasping my hand whilst we follow the others. A girl sidles up beside Katniss, pulling off the headdress and dropping it to the floor behind her. I recognize her as Johanna Mason, an interesting character. She rolls her eyes.

"Isn't my costume awful? My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I'd got Cinna. You look fantastic."

"Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet," Katniss replies, and I have to suppress the smile that threatens to crawl across my lips. Katniss talking about fabrics is odd.

"I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back." I quirk my eyebrow, but none of them are looking at me. I try not to think of anybody tearing a dress off Katniss.

Johanna unzips her dress and allows it to fall to the floor, kicking the clothing away with what looks like disgusts. "That's better," she sighs. I keep my eyes ahead of me.

We step into the elevator, and of course Johanna is with us. Katniss doesn't know where to look, and blood creeps across her face. Johanna talks to me about my paintings, and I answer her questions, thank her for her compliments, and keep my gaze on her face. First Finnick, with his golden net knotted at the groin, then Chaff with his sudden kisses, and now Johanna without a stitch of clothing. I think everybody remembers Katniss refusing to look at me without my clothes in last year's arena. When Johanna steps out of the elevator, I can't help but grin at the back of Katniss' head. Chaff and Seeder step out on the Eleventh floor, leaving just Katniss and I. She throws my hand away from her, and I burst into laughter.

"What?" She demands when we step out, and I'm still laughing.

"It's you, Katniss. Can't you see?"

"What's me?"

"Why they're acting like this. Finnick with his sugar cubes and Chaff kissing you and that whole thing with Johanna stripping down," I say, attempting to turn my voice serious. It doesn't work. "They're playing with you because you're so … you know."

"No, I don't know." Katniss says stubbornly.

"It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so … pure." I tell her.

"I am not! I've been practically ripping your clothes off every time there's been a camera for the last year!" Katniss huffs indignantly.

"Yeah but … I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure. For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you."

"No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!"

"No," I shake my head and fight the smile. Katniss doesn't say anything, and the elevator doors open up. Haymitch and Effie walk out, and in a few seconds, Haymitch has a hard expression on his face. I'm confused for a moment, but realise he's not staring at Katniss or I, but behind us. Effie blinks her gaze in the same direction.

"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year," Effie says, as if talking about clothing, or furniture. We both turn around, and see that there are two Avox people waiting for us by the door. They both have red hair, which must be what Effie had meant. The girl is from last year. My eyes focus on the male, and my stomach drops. Darius stares back at us. I wasn't sure if we'd see him again.


	10. Chapter 10

Haymitch steps forward and takes hold of Katniss' wrist, as if expecting her to jump forward, or do something else drastic. It's not exactly and unprecedented expectation. Katniss seems frozen to the spot for a moment, but she twists her arm from Haymitch's grasp and storms away to her bedroom.

"Well, what on earth is the matter with her!" Effie sighs, and both Haymitch and I answer her at the same time.

"Nothing, Effie." We glance at one another, but I break away and go to my old bedroom. It looks exactly like it had the year before. I get straight into the shower, washing off all of the make up that Portia had caked me in, and then allowing the hot water to just wash over me. Placing Darius as our Avox is a cold and calculating move, and no doubt had come straight from President Snow. I hadn't been particularly close acquaintances with him, but Katniss had spent a lot of her time in the Hob, and I'm sure she knew him pretty well. There's a knock at my door, Effie calling me to dinner. I turn off the shower and step on to the drying matt, using the second contraption to dry my hair. I grab my fake leg from next to the shower and strap it on tightly, hobbling across the room to pull out some clean clothes. Portia, Cinna, and Haymitch are already sat at the table and I greet them whilst sitting down. Portia comes into the room, soon followed by Katniss. Dinner passes by mostly uneventful, with everybody talking about the opening ceremonies. Except Katniss, who sits sullenly and eats her meal in silence. The only thing that happens is Katniss knocks over a dish of peas, and scrambles to pick them up. Darius is already at her side to help, and Effie is tutting and shaking her head.

"Get up, that isn't your job, Katniss." I stab the meat on my plate, and silently remind myself that Effie isn't a bad person, really.

We go into the living room to watch the recap of the Opening Ceremonies, and Katniss wedges between Cinna and Haymitch on the sofa. I have a feeling she's mad at me for something again, most likely laughing at her earlier in the elevators. I shake my head to myself, and Portia pats my shoulder in her sympathy. I flash her a weak smile, returning my gaze to the television screen. It's quite sad to see all of the old Tributes rolling through in their costumes. Katniss and I are the youngest Tributes this year. We are mostly silently as we watch, with only a few comments. As soon as the screen is switched off, Katniss stands, thanks Cinna and Portia, and leaves for her bedroom. Effie calls after her to remind her to be up early in the morning.

I wait a few minutes after she's gone before standing up myself. Portia takes hold of my hand but I just smile at her and subtly shake my head. Tonight, I don't wish to talk. Portia nods in her understand and let's me go. I hear them chattering behind me, but don't know what they say. I stop outside my bedroom door and turn back, making my way to Katniss' room. I don't know if there's anything I can say to her, but I have to at least try. I knock gently on the door and wait, but there's no answer. Not even the sound of her stirring. With a heavy heart, I return to my own room and fall into the bed.

That night I relive a memory, but it twists itself in my nightmares. I'm a child again, helping my mother in the bakery.

She's shouting at someone in the back alley, and I can't help but peek around her and out of the door. In the light of the kitchen, I see a small, bedraggled girl looking at us with wide eyes. She's been rummaging through the rubbish bins, like so many others. But I recognise the small girl with her braided hair. My mother shouts out at the girl again and pushes me back in, barking at me to attend to the bread. When she isn't looking, I push two loaves too far to the flames of the oven, so that the end burns to a crisp black. I pull the blackened crusts out, and my mother's hand comes down across my face.

"_You stupid boy! Look at that, we can't sell it any more!" Of course, that is the entire point. _

"_I'm sorry, Mama!" I try to sound apologetic, but she's already cursing over me. _

"_Go to bed, you stupid boy!" _

"_What about the bread, Mama? Shall I feed it to the pigs?" I ask, glancing at the back door. _

"_The pigs? This will be your meal tomorrow, boy! All you're getting to eat!" She snaps, taking the loaves and placing them on the side. No, that isn't right. I have to take them out of the back door, I have to throw them. Her hand comes down again and she pushes me to the stairs. "You deaf? I said go to bed!" I have no choice, my feet are already carrying me up to my bed. The image twists, and I'm at a funeral. There are people sobbing across from me. A young girl in a coffin, who had died from pneumonia on a rainy, dark night behind the Mellark Bakery. In my nightmare, she doesn't exist. _

"_Peeta Mellark!" My name, being Reaped. Prim standing beside me on the stage, trying to look brave. I have to protect this small girl, a reminder of the one I didn't protect. I'm pushed up into the arena, but I don't know what to do. There's Cato, ahead of me, and Clove at his side. But their faces are twisted and gnarled, a mixture of human and wolf. Their limbs aren't proportionate. Some of the Tributes have to crawl along the floor, some run but only fall over their own overgrown arms. Somebody attacks me, and there's a knife in my hand. I slam it into their throat, and blood is spraying over me, and gushing over the body. And it's Katniss staring up at me in shock, he arm outstretched, my name on her bloody lips. _

"_No!" I scream. She can't be here. She didn't exist. I didn't save her. I'm not in the Arena any more. Katniss is in a Wedding dress, one that I've seen before. There are people screaming all around me, someone pulling me away but I fight them off, I have to get back to Katniss and make it right. It can't be Katniss. Hands around my throat, yanking me away. I cry out for her, but there's too much blood. It's stained the white dress. I look up, into Gale's hateful eyes. _

"_You shouldn't be here, Peeta. This is our wedding, not yours." _

I sit up with a gasp, crying out before I can stop myself. Sweat covers my entire body, and I have to wipe at the tears pooling in my eyes. I'm panting heavily, and it takes a few moments to calm myself down. Just a nightmare, another nightmare. I fall back onto the pillow with a heavy sigh, not wanting to return to the torture. I spend the rest of the night in my bed, imagining what I would paint if I were back home, and trying not to fall asleep. When light starts to infiltrate the room, I get up and have a shower. I'm the first one at the breakfast table, so I pick at what I think I can manage to eat and sit down. Haymitch skulks in to the room and actually picks up some breakfast, although it's not much. Cinna and Portia come in almost at the same time, and then Effie.

"Where's Katniss?" Haymitch asks, and Effie looks flustered.

"I don't know – I told her to be here! I knocked on her door, I'm sure she'll be here any moment." Yet, she doesn't come out. And Haymitch drinks more, and becomes more and more agitated when Katniss doesn't come out. "Oh, I have something for you." Effie tells Haymitch, and pulls out a golden bangle, which has a pattern of flames on it. Haymitch accepts it without any enthusiasm, but still puts it on his wrist. An hours passes by, and Cinna and Portia make their apologies, but they have places to be. It's not long before Effie has to go, as well. Haymitch and I sit in silence, staring at the hall where Katniss' room is. Another half hour, and Haymitch jumps to his feet, storming down to her room. I hear him banging on her door and yelling at her to get to the dining room. She finally wanders into the room, but I'm not looking at her, my fingers tracing the patters across the wooden table.

"You're late," Haymitch snarls.

"Sorry. I slept in after the mutilated-tongue nightmares kept me up half the night," she replies. At first her voice is hard, but catches at the end. _I was killing you in my nightmares, _I think to myself glumly.

"All right, never mind. Today, in training, you've got two jobs." Haymitch begins, but I've already heard this. One, stay in love." That was already obvious.

"Obviously," Kantiss remarks.

"And two, make some friends."

"No," Katniss says instantly. "I don't trust any of them, I can't stand most of them, and I'd rather operate with just the two of us."

"That's what I said at first, but-" I start.

"But it won't be enough," Haymitch says firmly. "You're going to need more allies this time around."

"Why?" Katniss asks.

"Because you're at a distinct disadvantage. Your competitors have known each other for years. So who do you think they're going to target first?"

"Us. And nothing we're going to do is going to override any old friendship. So why bother?" It's a good point.

"Because you can fight. You're popular with the crowd. That could still make you desirable allies. But only if you let the others know you're willing to team up with them." An even better point. I trail off the grain of the wood with my index finger.

"You mean you want us in the Career pack this year?" Katniss says in distaste. "And who makes up the Career pack is generally agreed upon before the Games begin. Peeta barely got in with them last year." She pauses, probably remembering. "So we're to try to get in with Finnick and Brutus – is that what you're saying?" She asks. I wonder if she makes it a purpose in life to makes things just a little more difficult.

"Not necessarily. Everyone's a victor. Make your own pack if you'd rather. Choose who you like. I'd suggest Chaff and Seeder. Although Finnick's not to be ignored." _Hard for anyone to ignore him really, he's always in somebody's face. Not to mention he's considered the most attractive man in Panem. He's also very flirty from the sounds of it. _I realise my thoughts are going off topic and concentrate on Haymitch and Katniss again. "Find someone to team up with who might be of some use to you. Remember, you're not in a ring full of trembling children any more. These people are all experienced killers, no matter what shape they appear to be in." Haymitch says.

"All right, I'll try." Katniss sighs. Effie shows up to take us down to the Training, but Haymitch tells her we should go down by ourselves. We're the youngest, and it would only seem as if we need a babysitter. So Katniss and I step into the elevator in our silence, and say nothing on the way down. I take hold of her hand half way down, because we must seem like the couple in love. She still says nothing, nor does she look at me. It's very disheartening. When the doors open, we see that there are only two people waiting in the gym. When it comes to ten, only half of the Tributes arrive, but the woman who runs the training starts up with batting an eyelid. Perhaps she hadn't expected full attendance. She releases us to train, and Katniss looks at me briefly.

"We should split up, and cover more ground with the others." I don't argue, and we head in our separate directions. I head straight for the weights, knowing that a good workout on them will help me with my frustrations. There's no need to hide my supposed skills in front of these Tributes, as everything we kept hidden last year is now known throughout Panem. I throw some of the weights and decide to stop, because I'm already feeling better, and I need to concentrate on making friends. I turn around, and Johanna is watching me.

"Hello, Johanna," I say politely, wondering which station to travel to next.

"You're such a gentleman, you know." She says, and I glance at her again.

"Oh, why's that?"

"When we were in the elevator, your eyes didn't stray once. You kept them on my pretty little face," she tilts her head to the side, taking on a wondering expression. "Now, why is that?" I chuckle, my eyes travelling quickly to Katniss of their own accord. For some reason, I don't really want her seeing me talk to Johanna.

"Ah," Johanna notices the quick glance. "I think, you really are in love with her. Is that right, Mr Lover boy?" She asks, a smirk crawling across her lips.

"Don't call me that," I snap, thinking of Clove and Cato. Long gone.

I make my way to the knife throwing, where a few people are already assembled, and Johanna follows closely behind.

"Fascinated," she says behind me, and I do my best to ignore her. "Your fiancee has chosen interesting company," she carries on. I look over to where Katniss is sat. She's at the fire building station, with the male and female from District Three. They're an older couple. Johanna notices me looking. "Wiress and Beetee, although they're known to most as Nuts and Volts. Inventors, but not all there in the mind." Johanna comments, before stalking off to a different station.

I turn my attention to the knives. Luckily, my practice with Katniss and Haymitch has improved my skill with a knife, and I'm even able to throw them and get my target, most of the time. I join in conversation with the others there, and it isn't long before we have a group of people around the same station, chattering and pretending to look busy. It's obvious the people here are trying to build friendships, and make their groups ready for the arena. I make no commits, but try to get a stand on the people, and who might be useful to ally with.

Everybody makes their way into the dining room, and a few of the people I had been talking to pull a bunch of tables together, so that everyone can eat together. It's much more social than dinners last year, when I had only had Katniss for company. And we hadn't exactly been on talking terms, either. I look around for her, and catch up with Katniss at the food carts.

"How's it going?" I ask her.

"Good. Fine. I like the District Three victors. Wiress and Beete." Katniss tells me.

"Really? They're something of a joke to the others," I remember the jokes everyone had made up about them. I was under the impression that the District Three victors might be no use at all.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Katniss says. I chew on my lower lip.

"Johanna's nicknamed them Nuts and Volts. I think she's Nuts and he's Volts." I tell her.

"And so I'm stupid for thinking they might be useful. Because of something Johanna said while she was oiling up her breasts for wrestling," Katniss retorts, and I bite back the urge to sigh. Just like the year before. I try to share information and act the team we're meant to be, and Katniss sees it as an affront on her.

"Actually I think the nickname's been around for years. And I didn't mean that as an insult. I'm just sharing information."

"Well, Wiress and Beetee are smart. They invent things. They could tell by sight that a force field had been put up between us and the Gamemakers. And if we have to have allies, I want them." Katniss tosses the ladle into the stew, and I'm sprayed with a few drops of gravy.

"What are you do angry about?" I ask her. "Because I teased you in the elevator? I'm sorry. I thought you would just laugh about it."

"Forget it," she shakes her head. "It's a lot of things."

"Darius," I say.

"Darius. The Games. Haymitch making us team up with others."

"It can be just you and me, you know." I try to reason.

"I know. But maybe Haymitch is right. Don't tell him I said so, but he usually is, where the Games are concerned."

"well, you can have the final say about out allies. But right now, I'm leaning towards Chaff and Seeder." They're both strong Tributes, and not so bad people.

"I'm okay with Seeder, not Chaff." I wonder if that has anything to do with their first meeting.

"Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again," I say, holding back the smile.

Everybody eats together and it's generally a nice atmosphere, that it's almost easy to forget all but one of us will be dead soon. Almost. After dinner, we go back in to Training. I try out a few more stations, and make more friends. Finnick sidles up to my side at some point, and I'm about to turn and leave, but he has an elderly woman at his side. He introduces her as Mags, but she herself doesn't seem able to make a coherent sentence.

The highlight of Training is when Katniss stops at the Archery station. One by one, most of the Tributes turn to watch her shoot at some fake birds. She takes down five of them in the air, and turns to the room, seeming to notice the silence. Blood rushes to her cheeks when she notices us staring at her in admiration, envy, or hatred. I've never seen her shoot properly, and am entirely impressed. She's an exceptional shooter.

When Training is finished, Katniss and I lounge around in the sitting room until we are called for dinner. Haymitch wastes no time before launching into his onslaught on Katniss. "So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality."

"They saw her shoot," I smile. "Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself," I joke.

"You're that good?" He quirks an eyebrow in her direction. "So good that Brutus wants you?"

"But I don't want Brutus," Katniss replies with a shrug. "I want Mags and District Three." Haymitch sighs.

"Of course you do." He orders a bottle of wine. "I'll tell everybody you're still making up your mind."

That night, Portia meets me in my room.

"Ah, Portia. I've been meaning to look for you."I say, as I lift myself from my bed. I search in the bedside drawer and pull out the two photos hidden. One of Gale, and one of Prim and her mother, which I had gotten a couple days before the Reaping. "These are the photos I need putting into the locket. You'll have to have them resized, of course." I tell her pleasantly.

"You don't plan on coming out, do you?" Portia asks quietly, after inspecting the photos. I freeze on the spot, my mouth opening to say something, but words fail me. Portia lifts her head to look at me, but for once there are no tears in her eyes. "That's the only reason you'd have these pictures. Of people that Katniss loves. You're trying to convince her to win, aren't you?" I swallow and nod slowly.

"Yes, yes I am. "Portia nods, her eyes back on the photos. "I'm sorry, Portia." She smiles up at me.

"What for? Being in love?" She laughs half-heartedly, and hugs me briefly before leaving. I'm at a loss for words, and get into bed.

Training passes by quickly, and as much as I try not to get too friendly with the other Tributes, I find myself liking most of them. Yet they all have to die, so that Katniss can come out of the Arena. The final day of training arrives in no time at all, and we have to have our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I've no idea what I'm supposed to do for them, because they already know my skills. They know everybody's' skills, so what are any of us meant to do? At lunch, everyone kids around and jokes about what they might do. A lot of suggestions of singing and dancing, and Mags tells us that she's going to take a nap. The best idea I've heard. Haymitch tells us that we must try to surprise them if we can, and I spend all afternoon racking my brains for an idea. Throwing around weights isn't going to get me very far, considering that was my plan for the year before. I don't really have any skills beyond that, except maybe camouflage. If only they left us some ingredients and an oven, I could bake the best cake they've ever tasted.

When it is just Katniss and I waiting for our private sessions, I reach across the table and take her hands in mine. "Decided what to do for the Gamemakers yet?" I ask her, and she shakes her head.

"I can't really use them for target practice this year, with the force field up and all. Maybe make some fishooks. What about you?"

"Not a clue. I keep wishing I could bake a cake or something." I say.

"Do some more camouflage," Katniss suggests, which I had already been thinking of.

"If the morphlings have left me anything to work with. They've been glued to that station since traingin started." There's a pause of silence.

"How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?" Katniss blurts out. A question I'd been trying not to think of.

"I don't know." I lower my forehead, so that it's resting on our interlocked hands.

"I don't want them as allies. Why did Haymitch want us to get to know them? It'll make it so much harder than last time. Except for Rue maybe. But I guess I never really could've killed her, anyway. She was just too much like Prim." I glance up at her, with a frown settled on my expression.

"Her death was the most despicable, wasn't it?" I ask. Suddenly, I don't want to impress the Gamemakers.

"None of them were very pretty." Before I can answer, someone is calling my name. I make my way into the room, where the Gamemakers are sat. They're paying more attention than they did the year before, but they still have glasses of wine and some food splayed before them. A few of them are chattering excitedly between themselves. I make my over to the camouflage table, and notice that thankfully there are enough dyes there for what I want. I pull a few over with me of the middle of the floor, sticking my hands into the different paints and making long strokes on the floor. A picture begins to form under my hands. I use a lot of yellow, around the edge of what I've painted so far, adding in small colours here and there. When I've finished, I slowly get to my feet and step to the side, so that the Gamemakers can see the painting fully. A deep silence falls over the room, and there are a few gasps. They all stare down at my painting of Rue, with the flowers around her head. They all know that this is from just after she died. I stare up at them with a hard expression.

_It was your fault. Her death is on your hands. _I tell them silently, although they don't hear me.

"You may go," Plutarch Heavenbee tells me, and I make my way over to the elevator. Just before the elevator doors close, I hear someone shouting behind me.

"Clean that up! Get me more wine!" The elevator shoots up to Floor Twelve.

I stand in the shower for a long time, and scrub myself clean multiple times. Still, my hands are covered in various coloured dyes. Strapping on my leg, I get dressed and sit on my bed, waiting. Finally, there's a rap on my door, and someone calls me out to dinner. Haymitch questions us as soon as the soup is served, but I'm not too eager to share my story.

"All right, so how did your private sessions go?" Katniss and I glance at one another, and she seems to be suffering from the same reservations that I am.

"You first. It must have been really special. I had to wait for forty minutes to go in." Katniss tells me, which must have been them trying to clean up my painting.

"Well, I – I did the camouflage thing, like you suggested, Katniss." I hesitate. "Not exactly camouflage. I mean, I used the dyes."

"To do what?" Portia asks me curiously.

"You painted something, didn't you? A picture." Katniss says, and I glance up at her.

"Did you see it?"

"No. But they'd made a real point of covering it up." That isn't surprising.

"Well, that would be standard. They can't let one tribute know what another did." Effie says. "What did you paint, Peeta? Was it a picture of Katniss?"

"Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?" Katniss asks her in annoyance.

"To show he's going to do everything he can to defend you. That's what everyone in the Capitol's expecting, anyway. Didn't he volunteer to go in with you?" Effie says. Portia stares down at her soup.

"Actually, I painted a picture of Rue. How she looked after Katniss covered her in flowers," I tell them, because there's no point keeping it to myself. There's a long pause.

"And what exactly were you trying to accomplish?" Haymitch asks, sounding as if he's trying very hard to keep calm.

"I'm not sure," I admit. "I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment. For killing that little girl."

"This is dreadful," Effie almost cries, sounding a little tearful. "That sort of thinking … it's forbidden, Peeta. Absolutely. You'll only bring down more trouble on yourself and Katniss."

"I have to agree with Effie on this one," Haymitch says. Everyone looks very serious.

"I guess this is a bad time to mention I hung a dummy and painted Seneca Crane's name on it," Katniss says, and I stare at her in shock.

"You … hung … Seneca Crane?" Cinna asks slowly.

"Yes. I was showing off my new knot-tying skills, and he somehow ended up at the end of the noose."

"Oh, Katniss. How do you even know about that?" Effie asks quietly.

"Is it a secret? President Snow didn't act like it was. In fact, he seemed eager for me to know." Effie leaves the room in a rush, her napkin covering her tears. "Now I've upset Effie. I should have lied and said I shot some arrows."

"You'd have thought we planned it," I say, with the hint of a smile.

"Didn't you?" Portia asks, looking like she's warding off a headache.

"No. Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in." Katniss says.

"And, Haymitch?" I add. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena." I tell him.

"Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," Haymitch replies.

"That's just what we were thinking." Katniss says.

The rest of the meal is silent, and we gather around the television for the results. Effie manages to gather herself enough to join us, although her eyes are red.

"Have they ever given a zero?" Katniss asks when it gets close to our names.

"No, but there's a first time for everything," Cinna answers.

Our names finally come up, and I stare at the television. My photo stares back out at me, with a twelve flashing beneath it. There's no celebration, and the atmosphere is rather sombre. We both got twelves, which is historic in the Games.

"Why did they do that?" Katniss asks.

"So that the others will have no choice but to target you." Haymitch replies with a flat tone. "Go to bed. I can't stand to look at either one of you." I walk with Katniss to her bedroom door, and she wraps her arms around my body, her head falling against my chest. I slide my hands up her back to pull her to me, leaning my cheek gently against her head.

"I'm sorry if I made things worse," Katniss mumbles into my chest.

"No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?" I ask her.

"I don't know. To show them that I'm more than just a piece in their Games?" she replies, and I laugh gently, a memory of last year falling into my mind, when I had said those same words to her.

"Me, too. And I'm not saying I'm not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I'm perfectly honest about it ..."

"If you're perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway," Katniss voices my thoughts.

"It's crossed my mind." I admit. "But even if that happens, everyone will know we've gone out fighting, right?"

"Everyone will," she says. "So what should we do with our last few days?" Katniss asks, and there's only one thought in my mind.

"I just want to spend the every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," I tell her. No matter how long that life might be.

"Come on, then." She says, and pulls me into her room. I fall asleep that night with my arms around Katniss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

Chapter Eleven

I wake up to sunlight streaming into the room, and have to blink a few times to rid the sleep from my eyes. It's almost a new feeling, having a full night's sleep. I notice Katniss stirring at my side, and smile to myself.

"No nightmares," I say.

"No nightmares," she confirms. "You?"

"None. I'd forgotten what a real night's sleep feels like," I admit. For a while, we just lay in bed and enjoy the company of one another. It's relaxing, and I know that I wouldn't mind spending all of my mornings like this. I don't want to get out of the bed, because out of the bed means Interview prepping, and walking around for Effie, and being reminded that I'll be dead in a few days. The red headed Avox girl enters the room rather timidly. She hands over a note from Effie, which Katniss reads out loud to me. Apparently, because of our recent tour, she and Haymitch have agreed that we can handle ourselves. The coaching session are cancelled, and we have the day to ourselves.

"Really?" I ask, taking the note and running my eyes over it quickly. "Do you know what this means? We'll have a whole day to ourselves."

"It's too bad we can't go somewhere," Katniss sighs.

"Who says we can't?" I ask her with a smile.

We may not be able to go out of the building and explore the Capitol, but we still have the roof. We order a lot of food and get some blankets, making our way up to the roof for a day long picnic. We sit in the small garden, where the wind chimes tinkle all day and we lie in the sun and lounge around. Katniss practices tying knots with the hanging vines, and I sketch portraits of her. We play a game with the force field and apples, and eat the food we'd ordered.

When we settle down again, Katniss rests her head in my lap, weaving flowers together in order to make a crown. I begin twisting her hair, and when she asks what I'm doing, I tell her that I'm practising my knots. I'm overcome with just how pleasant it all is, that I stop in my weaving.

"What?" Katniss asks, when she notices my hands go still.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live it in for ever," I admit to her.

"Okay," Katniss suddenly says. It's surprising, but I allow a slow smile to spread over my face.

"Then you'll allow it?" I ask her.

"I'll allow it." My fingers return to her, and I continue weaving small knots into her hair, even after she falls asleep. I shake her shoulder gently when the sun begins to set, because it's a spectacular view behind the skyline of the colourful Capitol.

"I didn't think you'd want to miss it," I tell her when she wakes.

"Thanks." We sit and enjoy the view, watching the sky fall into the darkness, but the Capitol stays alight. We stay up on the roof when nobody calls us to dinner, which is quite a relief. The atmosphere isn't a pleasant one with everybody else.

"I'm glad." I tell Katniss. "I'm tired of making everyone around me so miserable. Everybody crying. Or Haymitch ..." I allow the sentence to fall, because I'm certain Katniss knows what I mean. She nods in agreement.

We finally leave the roof when we decide we need to sleep, and slip down to Katniss' room quietly. There's nobody around, so we go unnoticed. We fall straight to sleep again, and I sleep peacefully until Katniss' Prep team wake us up. At the sight of us together, one of them bursts into tears, although I don't know her name.

"You remember what Cinna told us," another says, which causes the first to burst from the room. Katniss doesn't look surprised by this, but I find it entirely disorientating.

"I best … get to my own room." I say, getting out of the bed slowly. I feel like any sudden movements might set off the remaining two. I leave and make my way to my own room, where of course my own Prep Team are waiting.

"There you are! Where have you been?" One demands.

"Sorry, I slept in Katniss' room," I tell them. There's a squeak of surprise, and my Prep Team are all looking … sad. One has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock.

"Oh! It's just so unfair." _Oh, not these guys, too._ I sigh in my mind.

"Don't we have work to be doing?" I ask, reminding them of why they're here. They flutter around me and get to work, getting me ready for my interview. I'm relieved when they finally leave, because their tears and attempts to not cry are starting to irritate me. Because they put a lump in my throat. These three, odd, chatty Capitol people who have been there with me. It appears they've made some kind of impression on me, and I on them. Portia steps into the room, holding a long bag that has my clothes in. She doesn't say anything, and it looks like there's a hard set in her expression, like she's upset over something. I hope she doesn't start crying, too. Because I won't be able to handle that.

I see what the problem is, when she unzips the clothing bag. It holds a black tuxedo, and there's a set of white gloves to go with it. This is what a groom would wear in a Capitol wedding.

"Oh, no. No." I whisper, and Portia turns her head to me. "Is she going to be in one of the-" Portia nods. She knows what I mean.

"It was President Snow's doing. We had no choice." She tells me, and I nod. It doesn't surprise me. He has made us a Bride and Groom for our Interview, to humiliate us further. To me, it's a personal reminder that I won't get my wedding with Katniss. It's then that I get an idea for my Interview tonight. I have to upstage myself from the year before, and I think I know just how to do that. The audience loves us as the Star Crossed lovers, so I shall really play up that status.

We go down to meet the others, and I'm blown away by Katniss in her dress. She looks stunning, but she also looks a lot like she had in one of my dreams. I try not to dwell on it, because my emotions are already running wild. Portia had started crying when she helped me dress, and I had to take a lot of deep breaths to stop myself from sobbing with her. There will be time for that later.

When Katniss and I reach the other Tributes, all of their conversations halt, their eyes turning on us. Everybody seems to be glaring at Katniss in her wedding dress. There's a long, silent pause between everyone, but Finnick finally breaks it.

"I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing," he says.

"He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him." Katniss is quick to defend Cinna.

"Well you look ridiculous!" Cashmere retorts, leading her brother to their place in line. Everybody else starts lining up, but a lot of them stop to pat us on the shoulder in sympathy. Johanna pauses to adjust Katniss' necklace.

"Make him pay for it, okay?" Katniss nods, but I don't think she really knows what Johanna means. We all make our way onstage and sit in our seats, watching in silence as Ceasar Flickerman begins the show. The Tributes all seem to have an agenda in their interviews, one similar to my own. There's a sense of rage in almost all of them, from being betrayed by the Capitol. Yet, they play this in a superb way during their interviews, to reflect on the government and President Snow. There's talk of the deep bond between Victors and the audience, and can we not do something? How can the government sever that bond so cruelly? There's a question of the legality of this Quarter Quell, and if President Snow is all powerful, why doesn't he change it? It's all fantastic, and has the crowd raging and demanding for a change.

It's absolute madness by the time Katniss makes her way to the stage, and it takes most of her three minutes just to silence the crowd enough for Ceasar Flickerman to speak. Most of the crowd are in hysterics because of Katniss in her wedding gown, realising that this Quarter Quell means the end of Katniss, our relationship, and the wedding everyone was excited for.

"So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?" Ceasar asks her, when he's finally managed to quiet the crowd.

"Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding … but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just … the most beautiful thing?" She begins to twirl, lifting her arms up for the audience. There are shrieks and screams in the crowd, because smoke has begun to rise around Katniss' feet. The smoke billows up around her and becomes thicker, and it looks like there's some kind of flames devouring the wedding dress. I have to tense my body and grasp the arms of the chair, to stop myself from leaping up and putting out the flames.

But I don't, because I know this has something to do with Cinna. I glance quickly at the crowd, picking him out. He looks calm, confirming that this is planned. The smoke finally clears, and Katniss is no longer in a wedding dress, but a suit of feathers, with wings at her back that are patched with white. The white headdress is now a black veil, flowing into the back of the dress.

"Feathers," Cinna says in wonder, reaching out to feel the dress. "You're like a bird."

"A mockingjay, I think." Katniss replies. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token." Also, the sign of the rebellion. Nothing Cinna does is ever unintentional.

"Well, hats off to your stylist. I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!" The cameras turn on Cinna, and he takes a small bow. The silent audience explode in their applause, and then the buzzer sounds.

It's my turn.

I get up and make my way to the stage, unable to look at Katniss when we pass one another. Perhaps I should have told her about my plan this time around, even though I'd only really thought of it an hour ago. Ceasar and I joke about fire and burnt poultry, in order to grab the audience's attention, and lighten the mood. Although I plan to dampen that mood very soon. I start fidgeting, wanting to get into the real conversation, because I have to fit it in before the buzzer sounds.

"So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?"

"I was in shock," I recall. "I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next … " I don't finish the sentence, allowing Ceasar to pick it up instead.

"You realised there was never going to be a wedding?" I pause, for a long time. Pretending to make a decision. I glance at the audience, then the floor, and finally at Ceasar.

"Ceasar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?" The audience laughs uncomfortably, but I can tell they are intrigued.

"I feel quite certain of it."

"We're already married." I tell him quietly.

"But … how can that be?" Ceasar asks me.

"Oh, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it's like in the other districts. But there's this thing we do … A couple light their first fire in their marital home, and toast some bread to share. It's a small ceremony, but every married couple in District Twelve does it on the night of their marriage.."

"Were your families there?" If I say yes, they'll send camera crews right out to interview those people, and I don't know what President Snow might do to them.

"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss' mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it. And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us."

"So this was before the Quell?" Ceasar asks.

"Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," my voice hitches a little. "But who could've seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere … I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"

"You couldn't, Peeta," his arms slides around my shoulders in an attempt of comfort. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together." There's loud applause from the crowd.

"I'm not glad," I say through it. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially," I say. Ceasar is shocked at my confession.

"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?" He asks.

"Maybe I'd think that, too, Ceasar," I make my tone bitter, which isn't too hard considering my rage at the moment. "If it weren't for the baby." I add. It takes a minute or two for the audience to realise what this means. There are mutterings throughout, people confirming to one another. And then come to wails and shrieks, and the crowd is in such uproar that Ceasar cannot contain them. The buzzer sounds beneath the cries of the audience, so I nod and sit back down. When we stand, I instantly reach out for Katniss' hand and she takes hold of it. The tears I've been keeping at bay the past few days break from me, and start to roll down my cheeks. It's a good touch for the cameras.

And suddenly, all of the Victors are joining hands, some uncertainly and some right away. But when the anthem finishes, we are all holding hands and joined in a unity between the Districts. The screens begin to go black, but not in time. All of those around Panem have seen this act. The lights on the stage go out and there's a lot of confusion, but I manage to steady myself enough to guide myself and Katniss to one of the elevators. A Peacekeeper blocks off Finnick and Johanna when they try to join us in the elvator, so we are left to shoot up in it alone.

When we step out, I instantly grab Katniss' shoulders. "There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologise for?" I ask her, worrying that she's angry all over again.

"Nothing," she tells me and I sigh in relief. We wait tensely, for the others to arrive, but only Haymitch steps out of the elevator.

"It's madness out there. Everyone's been sent home and they've cancelled the recap of the interviews on television." Katniss and I rush to the windows, to view the Capitol below, in complete disarray.

"What are they saying? Are they asking the president to stop the Games?" I ask, perhaps a little too hopeful.

"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here. But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?" He asks slowly. I know this, of course I do.

"The others went home?" Katniss asks.

"They were ordered to. I don't know how much luck they're having getting through the mob."

"Then we'll never see Effie again," I tell her, which makes me a little sad if I'm honest. I had wanted one final goodbye, to thank her. "You'll give her our thanks."

"More than that. Really make it special. It's Effie, after all." Katniss adds. "Tell her how appreciative we are and how she was the best escort ever and tell her … tell her we send our love." We stand there for a while, not wanting to speak, or move. But Haymitch finally says what we all don't want to think.

"I guess this is where we say our goodbyes as well."

"Any last words of advice?" I ask him.

"Stay alive," he says in a gruff voice. He embraces us both quickly. "Go to bed. You need your rest."

"You take care, Haymitch." After all we've been through, it's all I can think to say. I don't want to set off the emotions in the room. Katniss and I cross the room, but Haymitch stops us.

"Katniss, when you're in the arena," he pauses and scowls.

"What?"

"You just remember who the enemy is. That's all. Now go on. Get out of here." Katniss and I walk down the hallway, and I pause by my room.

"I just want to take a quick shower, get rid of all this make up. I'll meet you in a few minutes?" I suggest, but Katniss shakes her head and continues to grasp my hand. She pulls me into her room, and I use her shower instead.

We lay in bed, holding on to one another, silent so as not to disturb one another in the event of someone getting some sleep. I don't know if I do actually fall asleep at any point, but think I might doze here and there. As soon as dawn arrives, so do Cinna and Portia. I get out of the bed, giving Katniss a quick and light kiss. We aren't allowed to enter the arena together, so I have to go with Portia to get ready. I'm not keen on leaving Katniss, but I also want some alone time with Portia, to say my goodbye.

"See you soon," I tell Katniss.

"See you soon." I turn and leave, going to my own room with Portia. We wait a little while, and then head up to the roof. I step up onto the hovercraft, which freezes me in place and pulls me up. A doctor arrives and injects the tracker into my arm, which I aren't as nervous for like the year before. I still don't like needles. In the hovercraft, Portia and I are mostly silent. Only speaking when she makes me eat some bread and sip water. It's not an appetising breakfast, but it's all I can manage. The nerves are knotting my stomach, and I fear I will throw up if I eat any more.

It's worse than the year before. I had been nervous, of course, going into the unknown. This year, I know what it's like, to some extent. I know what it's like to see someone die before you, to watch a person take the life of another. Last year going into the arena, I had been fond of Katniss, very fond. This year, I am madly in love with her, and I have no idea what is going to happen. I am going to do all it takes to keep her alive, like I had the year before. The only exception this year, is that President Snow loathes Katniss, and will mostly likely have ordered the Gamemakers to make sure she dies. I have to fight against the President to keep her alive.

We enter the Launch room and I shower quickly, because I know it will feel like forever before I get into one again. Portia helps me to dress in the blue jumpsuit, which zips up the front. We make a few theories of what the outfit might mean for the arena, although I do not understand the purple, padded belt. Portia pulls something from her pocket, something gold. The light glints on it, and I see the mockingjay engraved on the front. A nice touch. She hands it over silently and I open the locket quickly, to glance at the smiling pictures of Mrs Everdeen, Prim, and Gale. This will be my token this year. I smile at her.

"Thank you," I say, and there's so much behind the two words. Portia seems to be struggling to keep a straight face and I suddenly embrace her tightly. She clings to me and we stay like that for a long while. "You've been such a good friend, Portia. Thank you. So much, for everything." I tell her, my voice beginning to tremble.

"Oh, please. You're going to ruin my make up!" She tries to laugh, but it's half hearted. I pull back, placing my hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Don't worry, Portia." I try to smile, but it falters.

"How can I not worry when I know – know that – you don't -" She doesn't fight her tears now, and I have to chew on my lower lip to prevent myself from crying with her. A voice interrupts us, telling me that I must prepare for the launch. Portia walks the little way with me, dabbing at her eyes and damp cheeks. She manages to hold herself for one last, quick hug before I step onto the circular plate.

"I'll see you on the other side," I smile crookedly, and she steps back as the glass cylinder lowers. She doesn't say anything more, but continues to dab at her eyes. Nothing happens, and I frown, but Portia looks as confused as I do. We wait in our confusion for a minute or two, but then the plate begins to rise. I place my hand against the glass briefly, and mouth a goodbye to Portia. She disappears as the plate rises further. I straighten my shoulders, remembering my imaginary sack of flour to stand taller.


	12. Chapter 12

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

Chapter Eleven

The sun is bright and hot, almost blinding. I have to squint in order to try and figure out where I even am. I squint around me, noticing that I'm in the middle of a large body of water. I start panicking. I don't know how to swim. I've never learnt, nobody's ever taught me. This isn't something we had prepared for in our training. This isn't something we'd anticipated. I concentrating on my breathing, to calm myself and try to take in my surroundings.

There's the Cornucopia, shining golden in the sun, on a strip of land. I have to shade my eyes, and notice the strip of land reaches out further. I look around at the other Tributes, but can't see Katniss anywhere. She must be on the other side of the Cornucopia.

The gong sounds, and I'm stranded. I stare out towards the Cornucopia, willing myself to be over there, on the land. Some of the other Tributes dotted around me have dove into the water and are swimming confidently. I watch them, trying to figure out how they move their limbs to stay afloat. They just look like they're flailing in the water, in a more streamlined and organised manner. It's not too far, and I'm sure swimming isn't really as hard as my brain is trying to make it out to be. Maybe I can make it across. I place my foot forward, trying to find the ground, but it's not there. I almost fall forward, but catch myself in time and draw back onto the metal plate.

Deep water. Quite a way to go. I have no chance. It's embarrassing, but I know that I'll have to wait for Katniss to come and rescue me. Just this once. Then the rest of the time in the arena shall be me looking after and protecting her. I keep my eyes on the area around the Cornucopia, only relaxing a little when Katniss comes into view. She has a bow in her hands, looking poised and dangerous. I need to get across to her, but I also need not to drown. I silently curse my dry District, where there was never any reason to learn to swim. It occurs to me to wonder how Katniss can swim. She's fighting someone, and I keep my eyes trained on her. All I can do it watch, and hope that she survives. I should be over there, I should be fighting at her side, protecting her. I curse loudly. Someone else is at Katniss' side, and I only have to glance to know that it's Finnick.

I panic again, for a brief moment. But they're not fighting, they're both walking towards the water. Finnick stops Katniss and says something to her, placing his hand on her stomach. Most likely something about her supposedly being pregnant. Finnick is suddenly diving into the water and swimming in my direction. I groan inwardly. So I'm going to be rescued by Finnick. Just wonderful. His head bobs up again in front of me, and I glare down at him.

"Hello, Peeta." He floats a little, seeming somewhat taunting. "I'm here to rescue you." He stops swimming, wading in front of me, a serious look on his face.

"That's okay Finnick, I think I'll just risk drowning." I answer him, wondering if there's any chance I can make it. Don't people float naturally? Perhaps I could just float across, with a few arm movements to help me... Finnick sighs and shakes his head. "Look, Peeta. We need you across there, so we can come up with a game plan. You're of no use stranded out here, or at the bottom of this water. Your pregnant fiancée would be so devastated." I glance down at him, and across the water to where Katniss waits. I don't trust him not to drown me, but I certainly don't trust him with Katniss.

"And what's to stop you from just dragging me under?" I ask him, accusingly. He lifts his arms out of the water and there's a flash of gold on his wrist. He places his hands behind his head, so that I can see the dangling bracelet clearly, with its pattern of flames. A message from Haymitch, of who to trust.

"I'm offended, Peeta. We're allies now, you should really learn to trust me." I lower myself into the water, tensing my jaw as Finnick's arm snakes around my chest. He starts swimming, pulling me through the water with him. I stay as still as possible, not wanting to distract him from his swimming. It's quite strange, but I feel like I'm gliding. I remind myself that this is not the time. We reach the shallow water, and Katniss grabs my hand, pulling me up to my feet and the dry land.

"Hello, again," I kiss her. "We've got allies."

"Yes. Just as Haymitch intended," she replies.

"Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?" It would be nice to know ahead, so I'm not caught by surprise.

"Only Mags, I think." Katniss nods out to the water, where the old woman is making her way towards us. I feel even worse, knowing that even this old woman can swim across to the land, even if she is from District Four.

"Well, I can't leave Mags behind. She's one of the few people who actually likes me," Finnick interjects.

"I've got no problem with Mags. Especially now that I see the arena. Her fishooks are probably our best chance of getting a meal." She has a point. Now that I'm on land, I look around closer at the land we have. The beach leads up the a jungle, and the rest of the arena seems to be water.

"Katniss wanted her on the first day," I say.

"Katniss has remarkably good judgement." Finnick says, pulling Mags up out of the water. Mags says something that I don't quite catch, patting the belt around her waist. "Look, she's right. Someone figured it out," he says, pointing out to the water where I think I see Beetee bobbing through the water.

"What?" Katniss asks.

"The belts. They're flotation devices. I mean, you have to propel yourself, but they'll keep you from drowning." Finnick explains. Well, that information could have come in handy beforehand. We don't waste any time standing around the Cornucopia. Katniss hands me some weapons, then handing one to Mags, who wouldn't stop pestering her. Finnick then picks Mags up onto his back and we start running. The trees are thick and the ground seems rather spongy, but there are tangles of vines all over, ready to trip us. Somehow, I end up taking the lead of the group, with Finnick behind me and Katniss taking the rear.

I'm glad I pushed the training on Katniss and I, because with the heat and the incline of the land, I would have been near ready to drop a year ago. We make it up quite a way before Finnick asks for us to have a rest, although I don't think the rest is for him. Katniss scales a tree whilst the three of us sit down, catching our breath. Finnick has his trident in his hand, and holds it a bit too defensively to be casual. Katniss jumps down to the ground, and I notice her eye him up quickly.

"What's going on down there, Katniss? Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of non-violence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?" Finnick asks her, in what seems to be more taunting.

"No," Katniss answers flatly.

"No. Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance," his eyes flicker to me for a few moments. "Except maybe Peeta." I'm not sure whether to feel insulted. The moment is tense, as Finnick and Katniss eye one another up and the other's weapons. My guess, calculating their chances of killing each other. I glance down at the bracelet on Finnick's wrist. There's a reason for that. A reason why Haymitch decided to trust this man, and Haymitch is hardly ever wrong when it comes to the Games. I step between the two of them.

"So how many are dead?" I ask Katniss.

"Hard to say. At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."

"Let's keep moving. We need water." I say, thinking it best to give them an objective, something to focus on.

"Better find some soon," Finnick adds. "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight." So we continue our trek, and Katniss and Finnick seem to relax a little. I stay at the front of our small line, carrying on up the hill for what I estimate to be about a kilometre. The knife is constantly in my hand, because there are vines criss-crossing over the path we take, that I have to slash at. The vines aren't very tough, and the blade slashes straight through them. I keep my eyes open for any underlying dangers, still no idea what the Gamemakers have planned for us. I wonder if there's anything particularly frightful or dangerous we should be expecting. It's just as I'm wondering this, that a sharp, intense current jolts through my body. I hear an odd zapping sound, and the pain is sharp through every limb. And then, nothing.

* * *

><p>My heart thumps hard, as if making up for lost time. I cough, to let out the air in my lungs. My limbs feel heavy, but after a few seconds of my pumping heart, they lighten a little. "Peeta?" her voice helps to bring me back. Trekking up the hill, slashing at the vines... what happened? Her fingers push hair away from my forehead, fluttering to my neck. I remember a jolt of electricity, through my entire body. I open my eyes slowly, searching out for the grey ones above me.<p>

"Careful," I croak. "There's a force field up ahead." Katniss laughs, but her cheeks are wet. "Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Centre roof. I'm all right, through. Just a little shaken." I try to reassure her.

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" Katniss bursts out, her hand then shooting up to cover her mouth.

"Well, it seems to be working now. It's all right, Katniss." She seems to be sobbing into her hand. She nods, but the sobs don't stop. "Katniss?" I ask, attempting to reach out to her, but my arms aren't ready to rise.

"It's okay. It's just her hormones. From the baby." Finnick tells me.

"No. It's not-" Katniss starts, but then another sob escapes her mouth. There's a moment of silence, as Katniss tries to get a hold of herself. After a moment of glances between Katniss and Finnick, he speaks up.

"How are you?" his eyes flicker to me. "Do you think you can move on?"

"No, he has to rest." Katniss chimes in before I have a chance. She snivels a little, but Mags hands her some moss from a tree, which Katniss uses to blow her nose. A slight frown burrows in her expression, her eyes on my chest. She reaches down and picks up the lock that hangs around my neck.

"Is this your token?"Katniss asks. It isn't the time to reveal what's inside, not just yet.

"Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match."

"No, of course I don't mind," she smiles at me, but it doesn't seem such a true expression.

"So you want to make camp here, then?" Finnick interrupts.

"I don't think that's an option, staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly." My body is working again, enough to move on a little.

"Slowly would be better than not at all." Finnick has to help me to my feet, because a large portion of my body still aches.

"I'll take the lead," Katniss announces, and I turn to her in order to argue the point.

"No, let her do it." Finnick cuts me off, gracing a frown in Katniss' direction. "You knew that force field was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning. How did you know?" She hesitates.

"I don't know. It's almost as if I could hear it. Listen." We all become still, trying to hear what Katniss claims to. I can hear the leaves rustling in the breeze, and insects in the brush, but I can't hear anything that sounds like a force field.

"I don't hear anything," I say.

"Yes. It's like when the fence around District Twelve is on, only much, much quieter." We listen again, but there still isn't anything.

"There! Can't you hear it? It's coming from right where Peeta got shocked."

"I don't hear it, either," Finnick says. "But if you do, by all means, take the lead."

"That's weird," Katniss frowns, turning her head side to side, as if listening. "I can only hear it out of my left ear."

"The one that the doctors reconstructed?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she shrugs. "Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I do hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn't ordinarily think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground." Strange, how she had never mentioned any of this before. Although, it's not entirely impossible that the surgeons could have made her hearing in that ear even better, as they have the means to do a lot of things surgery-wise. I have a feeling that a few surgeons will be paid a visit very soon.

"You." Mags mumbles, pointing at Katniss. Finnick makes two walking sticks, one for Mags and one for me. I feel so tired, and sleep is all I really want to do, but I force my legs forward. I manage to hobble on behind Katniss. This isn't the worst I've endured, and my body has been in much more pain before, so I'm sure I can handle this walk. We hobble along, and Katniss seems to be throwing nuts ahead of her, some of which Mags pops into her mouth. I'm still too tired to concentrate on them, only thinking of each step. It seems like a lifetime before Katniss finally stops.

"Let's take a break. I need to get another look from above." Katniss says, much to my relief. I slump against a tree whilst Katniss clambers up a taller one to scout the area. It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath and finally stop panting. It turns out a long walk is very tiring after just dying. Katniss appears on the ground again, just as I'm able to breathe properly.

"The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don't know how high it goes. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large." Katniss tells us.

"Did you see any water?" Water would be good, and tasty. My lips are starting to feel dry.

"Only the salt water where we started the Games." That doesn't sound good.

"There must be some other source," I frown. "Or we'll all be dead in a matter of days."

"Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere. At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing."

"There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel," I say. Or hope, at least. Thirst doesn't seem like a great way to die. We move down the slope a while, with the sun beating on our heads, my real leg starting to ache, feeling like I'm going to collapse on the way down. I remind myself I have been through worse, that I'm just a little tired. We make camp finally. Mags and Finnick start weaving grass to make mats for us to sleep on, and I start cooking some nuts using the force field. I peel off the shells, finding it methodical and calming, with something to concentrate on.

"Finnick, why don't you stand guard and I'll hunt around some more for water," Katniss suddenly says.

"No, you can't go out alone. The others are probably out hunting." I protest.

"Don't worry, I won't go far."

"I'll go, too." I try to reason.

"No, I'm going to do some hunting if I can," she tells me. Of course, I'm too loud to accompany her and she wouldn't be able to get any game. Not to mention, if there are any tributes around hunting, I'd alert them to our presence. "I won't be long." Katniss adds. I nod, and she disappears into the trees. I start to drop off, leaning against a tree with my legs splayed in front of me, but the first canon jolts me awake. Seven more follow. I wonder which of my eight almost friends are being sent home. I lean my head back against the bark and sigh. It seems such a heavy number when you know their names.

Finnick and Mags are quiet, but working on our camp. I go back to roasting and skinning the nuts, ignoring the dryness steadily growing in my mouth and throat. Mags makes some unintelligible noise and places some bowls in front of me, plaited from grass. I dump the roasted nuts into the bowls, wondering how Mags and Finnick can make such things out of grass. They have a full shelter with three walls, a floor and a roof, with mats to sleep on set up by the time Katniss returns. All eyes flicker to her, in hope, but she shakes her head.

"No. No water. It's out there, though. He knew where it was," Katniss throws some skinned animal down for us to see. "He'd been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn't find his source. I swear, I covered every centimetre of ground in thirty-metre radius."

"Can we eat him?" I ask, eyeing up the meat.

"I don't know for sure. But his meat doesn't look that different from a squirrel's. He ought to be cooked..." Katniss hesitates, wondering if a fire would be the best idea. I think of all the nuts I've been roasting and get up to find a stick with a sharp point. I take the meat from Katniss and skewer it onto the stick, allowing it to fall into the force field. A sizzle, and the stick flies back at us. It's well cooked, and the others applaud, but quickly quieten down.

The dreaded moment arrives, the sky lighting up with the seal of the Capitol and the anthem playing over the arena. We all watch in silence at the faces that look down over us, remembering the moments we'd shared with them. At that moment, I really wish Haymitch hadn't encouraged us to make friends. Even after the anthem plays again and the sky darkens, none of us say anything. The parachute sails to the ground between us, all our attention falling upon it. Nobody picks it up.

"Whose is it, do you think?" Katniss breaks our silence.

"No telling. Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?" Finnick suggests. Nobody protests so I untie the cord and reveal the small metal inside. I frown in puzzlement, not sure what it could be.

"What is it?" Katniss voices my question. None of us can give an answer. We all pass it between us, turning it over in our hands and examining the contraption for clues. I blow on one end, thinking it might make a sound like some sort of whistle, but no luck. Finnick tries it as a weapon, but that doesn't work. We think maybe Mags can use it for fishing, but she grunts and shakes her head.

Katniss takes a long time examining it, but eventually she groans in frustration and slams it down into the ground, so that one end embeds into the dirt. "I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out." She lies down on a grass matt, glaring at the metal object. I lean over to rub the tension from between her shoulders, and she seems to relax somewhat under my hands. There's a small while of silence, but Katniss suddenly bolts up from where she lays, startling me into sitting back. "A spile!" She gasps.

"What?" Finnick asks. Katniss tugs the metal from the ground and wipes the dirt, examining the thing closer.

"It's a spile," she explains to the rest of us. "Sort of like a tap. You put it in a tree and sap comes out. Well, the right sort of tree." She glances at the trees surrounding our small camp.

"Sap?" Finnick has no idea what she's talking about.

"To make syrup," I say, remembering a lesson from my father. "But there must be something else inside these trees." Everybody jumps up at the same time, seeming to have a similar idea. Finnick and I make a hole in a nearby tree, and Katniss wedges the spile into the bark, and after some adjustments, we get a small stream of water. We all take a large drink, realise afterwards how exhausted we are. I want to offer to take first watch, but I know I won't last and so do the others. Finnick ends up doing so, and I lie down on the surprisingly comfortable grass mat. An upgrade from my bed of mud the year before. It's not long before I fall asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_So today, somebody told me about a girl reposting my Peeta Point of Views on a different website (Quizazz), and taking credit for it. I've made her take them down, and it seems her profile has disappeared. Kassidy, if you are reading this - plagiarism is not the way to get people to like what you do. Create your own stories, work on your own writing. If any of you see something like this, I would appreciate you telling me, because I don't want other people taking this as their own. The only person who has permission to repost is a fanfic member, who is rewriting these stories in Spanish._

_I don't want you guys to suffer for the actions of one girl, so I will still continue to write and post for you. _

_On a happier note, on Friday I will be posting two chapters in celebration of the release of The Hunger Games film! _

Chapter Thirteen

"Run!" I open my eyes slowly, feeling sluggish and unsure I had heard correctly. Perhaps it had been part of a dream. "Run!" No, not a dream. I get to my feet, looking around in confusion. Finnick already has Mags on his back, and Katniss grabs my arm, pushing me forward.

"What is it? What is it?" I ask, not sure what's going on. Is that fog behind us?

"Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!" She urges me forward. I don't say anything, but try to move forward as quickly as the others. But dying, even for a minute, seems to have a terrible effect on the body, and I can tell that I'm not moving as fast as I need to. I keep tripping up on the vines snaking across the ground, that I never seem to see. Katniss stays at my side, and I want to tell her to just go ahead. Her fingers slide into mine, interlocking tightly with my own.

"Watch my feet. Just try to step where I step." She tells me, and I keep my eyes focused on her running feet, trying to keep my steps in hers. Parts of my body are stinging, from where droplets of the fog mist have scarred me. They burn, a searing pain deep in my skin, but I try to ignore it, concentrating on pushing my feet forward. Ignoring them does no good, because it feels like my nerves are starting to twitch. It's an odd feeling, and feels like parts of my body are not my own. My fake leg gets caught in a tangle of vines, so that I sprawl on to my front. The feeling is spreading, the nerves in my face start to spasm, my left eyelid closes of its own accord.

"Peeta-" Katniss begins to say, but cuts herself off. She pulls me forward, but I'm not ready and my real leg doesn't co-operate, making me stumble even more. I finally manage to get to my feet, with a lot of help from Katniss, but they seem to be out of my control. I try to walk, but my legs lurch under me and I hardly move at all. Finnick is suddenly there, pulling me forward with him. Katniss puts her shoulder under my arm, and together they pull me along with them. After a while, Finnick stops.

"It's no good. I'll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?" I want to protest, that they should go on, but I can't open my mouth, or find the words. My eyelids are drooping, and my head is starting to drop. I need to stay awake. I think I'm on Finnick's back now, and he's running. I try to look around, to find Katniss, but my head barely moves an inch. I just have to trust that she is safe.

"I need you to hold this," Finnick's voice rouses me. He's holding his trident to the side. Yes, a task. I take the trident from his hand and hold it in my own, using all of my concentration to make sure I don't drop Finnick's weapon. Didn't he have two more? Where have they gone? We stop again after a while, and I'm starting to feel more comprehensive of my surroundings. Katniss is asking Finnick to take both Mags and I, something about catching us up. I try to rouse myself, but my legs twitch painfully, and I have to relax again.

"I'm sorry Mags, I can't do it." Finnick says, with a flat voice. I manage to lift my head, just in time to see Mags hobble straight into the fog. Her body twitches, and it looks like she's doing an odd dance. Her body slumps to the ground, and the canon above alerts us that she is gone. Finnick doesn't stay, he turns and begins walking away, so that I am left to watch the fog roll over the already dead Mags. I see Katniss walking behind us, seeming to drag one of her legs behind her. I grasp Finnick's trident in my hands.

He keeps running for a long time, but eventually he collapses on the ground, with me still on top of him. I try to move and roll off him, but then Katniss falls on top of us. So this is how we die, in a pile on the ground. Finnick groans, and Katniss rolls away onto the ground. She croaks something, but nothing that sounds like a word.

"It's stopped," she says, and I turn my head to look at what she means. It's like an invisible wall has stopped the fog, which is rising up to the sky. I watch until there's nothing left, then remember I am still on top of Finnick. I lay the trident down, and roll off Finnick onto the ground. I haven't been the one running, but I'm still gasping and my nerves are still twitching. I'm laid on my back, looking up at the trees. I blink and frown, trying to figure out if my mind is playing tricks. No, those are monkeys, looking down upon us. I manage to lift my hand and point upwards.

"Monkeys," I say, but I don't think it comes out correct. I don't know how I know what these creatures are, it must have been something I have seen when I was younger. We all seem to observe the other; monkeys staring down at humans, humans staring up at monkeys. Eventually, I turn over and begin crawling on my knees, down the slope to where I'm sure the beach is. Water, to clean the wounds. I crawl right to the water, and begin to dip into it. The wounds burn even more than when the mist had seared my skin. I'm about to draw back, onto the sand, but I realise there's a different sensation. Something is being drawn out of the wounds, a white substance floating in the water. The pain of the washed out wounds is subsiding, so I start to strip off the jumpsuit. I stand in my undergarments, washing out every wound on my skin.

Once I've gone over my own wounds, I notice Katniss is pouring handfuls of water onto Finnick's arms. I wander over and cut away the jumpsuit, revealing the wounded flesh beneath. These jumpsuits are of no help, the droplets have seared straight through them. I find some shells, which Katniss and I use to gather water and pour onto Finnick, making sure to stay away from the white wisps of smoke. Finnick lays with his eyes closed, groaning occasionally. I wonder if he's even aware of what is happening.

"We've got to get more of him into the water," Katniss whispers. We both take hold of a leg, and drag him down into the water, little by little. Whilst we do this, I notice that the longer I spend in the water, the better I feel. I can open my eyes properly, and my face feels relaxed, everything seems clearer than before. Finnick comes to, and we sit for ten minutes, allowing him to soak in the water, his head in Katniss' lap. He lifts his arms above the water. I look up at Katniss and we exchange a smile.

"Just your head left, Finnick. That's the worst part, but you'll feel much better after, if you can bear it." I tell him gently. We both take an arm each and help him as he dips his head into the salt water, still unable to talk. When we get him sat up, Katniss decides she wants to tap a tree for some drinking water.

"Let me make the hole first," I say. "You stay with him. You're the healer," I tell her, remembering the year before when she had helped to nurse me back to health. I wander away, managing to find a good tree a few metres from the edge of the jungle. The awl that Mags had has gone, most likely into the fog along with her. I have to use my knife to dig into the bark, making a hole big enough for Katniss to wedge the spile into. I work away at the tree, having to dig away around the edges, and deepening into the bark, until Katniss' voice sounds from somewhere behind me.

"Peeta, I need your help with something." She says calmly.

"Okay, just a minute. I think I've just about got it." I dig the knife in again, and twist. There's a small break. "Yes, there. Have you got the spile?"

"I do. But we've found something you'd better take a look at. Only move towards us quietly, so you don't startle it," her voice is still calm. I frown and turn towards them.

"Okay," I say. I start walking towards them, trying my best to walk quietly and slowly. As I walk back, I notice something strange. Like a mass of eyes following my movements, something hostile above me. My eyes dart up for a moment, just to see what it might be. I barely have a moment to realise what is happening. There's a loud shriek, and a mass of fur and claws rain down upon me. I bring up my arms to protect myself, then remembering the knife in my hand. I start slashing at the creatures, managing to take down a few of them, although their sharp talons and teeth still come down upon me. Katniss and Finnick fight their way through the mass, and we create a triangle a fwe metres apart, backs to one another, fighting off the onslaught.

"Peeta! Your arrows!" Katniss shouts to me. I slash at the throat of a creature, and turn to see Katniss with no arrows, her knife in her hand. I shrug off my sheath to hand to her. She starts running to me, and I turn in time to see the monkey lunging for me. I've no time to slash at it, my hand is stuck in the strap of the sheath. There's a shriek, and suddenly a body in front of me, embracing the mutt, which sinks it's teeth into the person. I manage to drop the sheath towards Katniss, bringing the knife up to stab the creature multiple times, until its jaws lets go. It falls away, and I recognise the female morphling from District Six. But why? Why would she throw herself in front of me in order to save me? And where had she come from? It makes me angry, and I find that I'm shouting.

"Come on, then! Come on!" I shout at the mutts, but they are withdrawing from us. They disappear into the trees, leaving only their dead.

"Get her. We'll cover you," Katniss says, and I rush forward to grab the female morphling, carrying her to the beach. I lay her on the sand, as gently as I can. Katniss cuts away her jumpsuit and examines the wound, whilst the woman gasps for air, looking sick, starved, and dying. It's obvious that there is no way to save her.

"I'll watch the tress," Finnick says quietly. The morphling is holding on to Katniss' hand tightly, and I crouch down on the other side, stroking the hair from her face. I remember her obsession with the camouflage station in Training, of how she spent hours playing with the colours.

"With my paint box at home, I can make every colour imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby's skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water," her eyes are glued to my own. "One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of colour. One by one." I murmur softly to her, noticing how her breath is shallow and slow. Her fingers move slowly, painting swirls in her own blood. I force myself to keep my eyes on hers. "I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air." Her shaky hand lifts to my cheek, where she paints something on my flesh. "Thank you," I whisper. "That looks beautiful." I don't know what she's drawn on my cheek, but her face stretches and lights up in a grin, but then her hand falls, and the canon fires.

I don't speak when I stand up and pick up the morphling's body, I don't speak as I wade out into the water until I am waist deep. I only speak when I lay her in the water, and allow her body to drift off. "Paint me something spectacular," I murmur, watching her for a moment. I turn and walk back to the beach, not watching the hovercraft that picks her up. I still cannot fathom why she had saved me.

Finnick returns, with a handful of arrows covered in blood. Katniss takes to them to the water to wash them, and we wander up into the jungle for some moss. All of the bodies have vanished. My face is itching, where the mist droplets had scarred me. I begin to itch them, barely listening to Finnick and Katniss when they talk about the disappearance off the muttations.

"Don't scratch," Katniss suddenly says, making me drop my hand. "You'll only bring infection," she adds, reminding me of the year before. I leave the scratches alone. "Think it's safe to try for the water again?"

The tree I had cut a hole into isn't far, and I wedge the spile into it whilst Finnick and Katniss stand guard. We all take turns in having a long drink, and use the water to wash most of our bodies. We return to the beach, which seems to be the safest place we have found so far. Katniss offers to take first watch, but Finnick insists. I lay down, feeling momentarily guilty at not weighing in, but that guilt makes way to sleep.

Someone's shaking me gently, Katniss' voice soft in my ear, rousing me from my slumber. I feel rested, ready to- "Aaa!" I shout, jumping when I open my eyes. Finnick and Katniss are both inches from my own face, and when I shout in shock, they both fall about in laughter. I sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and trying to look disdainful.

A parachute interrupts their joy at catching me off guard. Finnick takes the loaf of bread in his hands, turning it over. The bread has a green tint to it, and Katniss and I say nothing. This bread is not ours, it is for Finnick. "This will go well with the shellfish," he says.

Katniss brings a tube of foul smelling ointment over to me. "A present from Haymitch," is all she says when I glance at her in puzzlement. She helps to lather it over my scabs, and I sigh in relief when it covers the flesh. It's an instant relief, and the itching stops. It just happens to make the scabs greenish colour.

We stay on the beach for the day, not wanting to return to the jungle, which no longer seems so safe. At some point, we hear some screams from somewhere in the distance, and the ground seems to vibrate. A huge wave appears over the hill, crashing down over the trees and into the seawater. We're at the opposite side of the arena, but the water at our feet still rises up to our knees, taking our few possessions with it. The three of us jump up and quickly retrieve the important things, deciding that the jumpsuits are worthless, allowing the water to take them. A canon fires and a hovercraft appears, plucking the body from the trees.

_One less person,_ I think to myself, wondering who it could be. The water calms down, and we out our things back down on the beach, but Katniss goes still.

"There," she points, and Finnick and I both follow her finger. There are three people stumbling onto the beach a little way from us. Without speaking, the three of us back up into the jungle, hiding in the shadows and watching the figures draw closer. They've had it rough, that's obvious right away. One seems to be going in circles, possibly not of sound mind. One is being dragged by another, and they're all bright red, as if covered in paint.

"Who are they?" I ask quietly. "Or what? Muttations?" Katniss draws an arrow, ready for a fight. We all watch in silence, the one being dragged collapses on the ground, and the one dragging stamps the ground in frustration, then shoving the circling one over.

"Johanna!" Finnick calls brightly, setting off at a run towards them.

"Finnick!" One of the red figures replies, and it's certainly Johanna's voice.

"What now?" Katniss asks, glancing at me.

"We can't really leave Finnick," I sigh.

"Guess not. Come on, then." Katniss says, not sounding very happy about it. We wander down the beach towards them.

"She's got Wiress and Beetee," Katniss says.

"Nuts and Volts?" I frown in puzzlement. "I've got to hear how this happened." When we reach them, Johanna is chattering quickly to Finnick, talking about the blood that had rained down on them. They had been unable to find water, and tried to drink the rain, but only received mouthfuls of blood. I shudder at the thought. Johanna's male counter part Blight had run into a force field, but had not had Finnick to get his heart beating again. Johanna talks about Wiress and Beete, and I notice that Wiress is still circling around, covered in dried blood, and murmuring "tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock." Johanna says, which draws Wiress to Johanna. She lurches into Johanna, who shoves her hard onto the beach. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," Katniss snaps, causing Johanna to narrow her eyes in Katniss' direction.

"Lay off her?" Johanna hisses. She steps forward and slaps Katniss, which shocks me so much I can't react. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You-" Finnick plucks Johanna from where she's standing and tosses her over his shoulder. I can only watch as Finnick dunks Johanna repeatedly in the seawater, whilst she hurls insults at Katniss.

"What did she mean? She got them for me?" Katniss asks, still watching Finnick and Johanna.

"I don't know. You did want them originally," I say. I don't really know what Johanna had meant, or why she might wish to do anything for Katniss.

"Yeah, I did. Originally. But I won't have them long unless we do something."

I pick Beetee up from the ground, and Katniss takes Wiress' hand to lead her back to our camp. Katniss takes off Beetee's belt, and finds an odd metal cylinder attached to it. She throws it up on the beach with the rest of our belongings. We can't just take his jumpsuit off because the drying blood is sticking to his skin, so I have to hold him under the water so that Katniss can loosen them. When we do finally get it off, we find his undergarments are also caked in blood and there's no choice but to completely strip him. Surprisingly, Katniss doesn't seem bothered by this like she once would have been.

There's a long gash on Beetee's back, which is still oozing blood. Luckily, it's not too deep and there's a chance to save him. Katniss stops for a moment, probably mulling over some kind of solution. I leave it to her, because she seems to know more about healing people than I do, even if she doesn't think so. An idea comes to her, because she jumps up and disappears into the jungle. She returns with an armful of moss from the trees, which she makes a padding on Beetee's cut, securing it to his back with some vines. I pick him up again carefully, laying him down in the shade of the trees.

"I think that's all we can do," Katniss says.

"It's good. You're good with this healing stuff. It's in your blood." Katniss shakes her head.

"No. I got my father's blood. I'm going to see about Wiress." I nod and let her leave to clean and help Wiress. I have nothing to do but sort out our supplies and keep an eye on Beetee until everyone else returns. Johanna and Wiress are clean, and Finnick's wounds are peeling when everyone returns. Johanna drinks a lot of water and stuffs herself on shellfish whilst Finnick tells the story of the fog and monkeys, in a flat tone. He doesn't say anything about Mags, and Johanna doesn't ask about her. I wonder how close the two of them are, for her to know what not to ask. Tonight, I do offer to take first watch, but Katniss and Johanna end up staying awake. I lay down on a matt and fall asleep easily.


	14. Chapter 14

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_The next chapter will be posted in a few hours, when I've finished writing it. Or possibly tomorrow, it depends on how well I do. _

_Also, did you guys see it? Did you love it as much as I did? Such a good film! _

Chapter Fourteen

"Get up!" Someone is shaking me awake. "Get up – we have to move." I rub my eyes and sit up with a frown. Nothing appears to be attacking us, we're all on the beach and everything is quiet.

"What's going on, Katniss?" I ask groggily. When Finnick, Johanna and I are awake, Katniss quickly explains about the arena, and why Wiress is always murmuring 'tick, tock'.

"The arena's a clock," she says, which makes me frown more. "Every hour something happens in a particular section. Over there, the lightning hits the tree when it's midnight, or when it feels like noon. Then the blood rain, after that the fog. Straight after the fog came the monkeys. Every hour triggers something in each section of the arena. The wave didn't stay to its own section, so the fog or the monkeys might come out of the jungle." It makes sense, although Johanna doesn't want to admit that Katniss is right. She still agrees to move. We gather up the few possessions that we have, ready to move on and avoid either of the horrors that could leak out of the jungle.

Katniss rouses Wiress, who is panicked and shouting, "tick, tock!" Katniss nods.

"Yes, tick, tock, the arena's a clock. It's a clock, Wiress, you were right. You were right." Katniss reassures her, and the tension floods from Wiress' expression. She even manages to communicate better with us now that we understand what she has been trying to tell us. When we're all ready, I try to lift Beetee, but he shakes his head and resists me.

"Wire," he mumbless.

"She's right here," I tell him, thinking he means Wiress. "Wiress is fine. She's coming, too." He still doesn't allow me to lift him.

"Wire," he says again.

"Oh, I know what he wants." Johanna picks up the cylinder that had been attached to his belt. "This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don't know what kind of weapon it's supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garotte or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garotting somebody?" I remember the tapes I had watched so many times

"He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap. It's the best weapon he could have." I say.

"Seems like you'd have figured that out," Katniss says rather suspiciously. "Since you nicknamed him Volts and all."

"Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it? I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were … what, again? Getting Mags killed off?" Katniss tenses up. Her fingers find the knife at her belt. "Go ahead. Try it. I don't care if you are knocked up, I'll rip your throat out," Johanna hisses. There's a tense, silent moment. I keep my hands free, just in case the two of them do start fighting.

"Maybe we all had better be careful where we step," Finnick finally cuts the silence. He places the cylinder on Beetee's chest. "There's your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it." I take Beetee in my arms and stand up.

"Where to?"

"I'd like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we're right about the clock," Finnick says. We carefully make our way to the Cornucopia, watching out for the Careers, but there is nobody around. I lay Beetee down in the shade of the Cornucopia, and pick up the coil of wire. It's covered in dried blood, so I call Wiress over and hand it to her.

"Clean it, will you?" I ask her and she nods, taking it from my hands and scampering to the water. She dunks the cylinder in the water and starts singing some song about a mouse and a clock.

"Oh, not the song again," Johanna groans with a roll of her eyes. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking." Wiress stands up, suddenly alert, pointing to the jungle.

"Two." I wonder how she knows the time exactly. Where she is pointing, the fog is rolling out onto the beach where we had been sitting. It's lucky that Katniss had figured out what Wiress had been trying to warn us.

"Yes, look, Wiress is right. It's two o'clock and the fog has started."

"Like clockwork. You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress." I smile at her, and she smiles before returning to her cleaning and singing.

"Oh, she's more than smart." I spin on my heels to look down at Beetee, who is slowly waking. "She's intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines."

"What's that?" Finnick asks Katniss.

"It's a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there's bad air," Katniss explains.

"What's it do, die?" Johanna asks, rather sarcastically.

"It stops singing first. That's when you should get out. But if the air's too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you." Katniss doesn't say anything more on the subject, and I wonder if her thoughts are on her father, who died in the mines. Or maybe Gale, who now works in them.

Johanna picks through the weapons left in the Cornucopia, and Katniss searches for more arrows to add to her stock. I take out the leaf I had collected from the jungle earlier. I hadn't been sure what I might have needed it for, but now it has a purpose. Squatting on the ground, I use the tip of my knife gently, creating a map of the arena. The Cornucopia in the centre and the twelve wedges around it, a circle for the waterline, and another larger one for the edge of the jungle. I examine It for a moment, noticing Katniss peering over my shoulder.

"Look how the Cornucopia's positioned," I say.

"The tail points towards twelve o'clock," Katniss notices what I have.

"Right, so this is the top of our clock," I scratch in the numbers one to twelve in each wedge. "Twelve to one is the lightning zone," I write lightning in the top wedge and work my way around what we know. Blood, fog, monkeys.

"And ten to eleven is the wave," Katniss reminds me, so I write that in. Finnick and Johanna come over to see what we are doing, looking well armed. "Did you notice anything unusual in the others?" Katniss asks. Beetee and Johanna shake their heads, explain they've only seen the raining blood. "I guess they could hold anything."

"I'm going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemaker's weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we'll stay clear of those." I explain, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave sections. I sit back, looking at the small drawing. "Well, it's a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway." Everybody nods.

Katniss suddenly loads an arrow in her bow, and everybody else tenses and readies their weapons. It's silent, no more singing. I glance up just in time to see Gloss dropping Wiress to the ground, her throat slit open. An arrow embeds into his right temple, and within seconds Johanna's axe is in Cashmere's chest. A spear is flying through the air towards me, but Finnick knocks it away before I have time to react. Three canons fire. We can't help Wiress, and Gloss and Cashmere are also gone.

We all start chasing Brutus and Enobaria, but the ground jerks just as I step down on my fake leg, making me lose my balance and fall to the ground. The circle of land starts spinning fast, the arena around us just a blur. I attempt to sit up, but I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have to dig my hands in the sand to stop myself from being thrown off into the water, and I get a mouthful of it. I close my eyes in an attempt to block out the spinning, until it finally stops.

I sit up slowly, feeling extremely queasy and having to scrape sand from my mouth. I see that Katniss, Finnick and Johanna are in the same position. The dead have been tossed into the sea already and Beetee is -

"Where's Volts?" Johanna asks, just when I realise I can't see him. We all jump to our feet and make an uncertain circle of the Cornucopia, but he's not on the sand. Finnick spots him barely keeping afloat in the water, and instantly jumps in to retrieve him. Katniss starts looking around, and then tosses her weapons aside.

"Cover me," she says and jumps into the water before we can say anything. She's swimming towards Wiress, and I wonder what on earth she's doing. Finnick reaches the shore with Beetee and I run over to help them up onto the land whilst Johanna keeps an eye on Katniss. Beetee splutters, coughing up water, and clutching his glasses. At least he'll be able to see. Katniss wanders across the sand and drops the coil of wire in Beetee's lap. He pulls some of the fine, golden wire out and examines it. Nobody says anything. Katniss walks towards me and wraps her arms around me. Mine enclose around her instantly.

"Let's get off this stinking island," Johanna says. We retrieve our weapons and make sure we have all of our possessions, Finnick wraps his undershirt around the wound on his leg, and Beetee decides he can walk. We decide to go up the beach to twelve o'clock, where we will have a few hours of calm. I start walking in the direction that the tail is pointing, and notice that Johanna and Finnick are both waking in different directions.

"Twelve o'clock, right? The tail points to twelve." I say.

"Before they spun us," Finnick points out. "I was judging by the sun."

"The sun only tells you it's going on four, Finnick. "Katniss says.

"I think Katniss' point is, knowing the time doesn't mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well," Beetee says, and Katniss nods along with him.

"Yes, so any one of these paths could leave to twelve o'clock." The Gamemakers have managed to completely disorientate us, so now all that we had learnt and pieced together does not mean much. We circle around the Cornucopia, trying to find something familiar in the jungle that might piece together where the times are. Everything looks the same. Johanna thinks to follow the tracks of Brutus and Enobaria, but there's nothing left. "I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they've taken that advantage away as well," Katniss says bitterly.

"Only temporarily. At ten, we'll see the wave again and be back on track." Beetee reminds her.

"Yes, they can't redesign the whole arena," I say. At least, I don't think they can.

"It doesn't matter. You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless." Johanna cuts in.

"Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?" Katniss asks. All we are able to do is choose a random path and head into a random section. We pause at the jungle and peer into the trees, trying to figure out what may be awaiting us.

"Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don't see any of them in there." I say, shuddering at the thought of their claws and talons. "I'm going to try to tap a tree."

"No, it's my turn." Finnick cuts in.

"I'll at least watch your back," I offer, but Johanna speaks up.

"Katniss can do that. We need you to make another map. The other washed away." She yanks off another large leaf and shoves it into my hands. Katniss hesitates, but finally leaves with Finnick. I sit down on the ground and take out my knife, drawing out everything I had on the previous small map, writing out what we know is in each section. When I'm finished, I sit back and wait for Katniss and Finnick to call for us, or come back. A scream makes me jump up, with knife in hand. It isn't Katniss' voice, but Prim's. But why would Prim be screaming in the jungle?

"Was that Katniss?" Johanna asks, grabbing her axe.

"No," I answer slowly, frowning in my confusion. "It was her sister." Johanna stares at me. "Come on," I urge, heading in the direction of the sound and where Katniss and Finnick had disappeared. I can't hear anything else, and shout out for Katniss. There's no reply. I start to panic, call out for her again. I run straight into an invisible barrier. I stumble back, rubbing my shoulder where I had hit it. "There's some kind of wall," I say to Johanna and Beetee, running my hand over the surface. It's not a forcefield, because I can touch it. I drive my knife into the barrier, but it has no effect.

Finnick and Katniss are in there somewhere. Listening to Prim screaming? Other people?

"You said you heard her sister screaming? How is that even possible?" Johanna asks. I chew on my lower lip, slamming my blade into the wall again. Still, nothing.

"A jabberjay," Beetee says finally. "Used in the rebellion to record conversations," he seems to be thinking, and I try pounding my fists against the invisible barrier. "I suppose with the interviews from last year, they could have distorted some sound to make it sound like her screaming." He muses out loud.

"That, or they tortured her," Johanna cuts in casually.

"No," I snap.

"This is the Capitol-" she starts to say.

"If they tortured Katniss' sister, then how many of our family and friends have they tortured?" Johanna doesn't answer.

Katniss and Finnick finally come into sight, and Katniss is glaring down at us, with daggers in her eyes. I place my hands flat against the barrier. She probably doesn't know about it yet, perhaps thinks that we hadn't attempted to pursue them.

"Katniss, there's a barrier. We can't get through it, are you two okay?" I try to tell her, but they still keep walking towards us. They don't seem to hear me, and walk straight into it, just like I had. Katniss walks into it with her shoulder, but Finnick gets hit in the face and his nose starts gushing blood. I try my knife again, and Johanna even takes a swing at the barrier with her axe, but it still remains intact.

I press my hand against the solid wall, my gaze on Katniss. She lifts her own hand to meet mine, and I pretend for a moment that I can feel her. I want so badly to be on the other side of the wall with her, to protect her from the horrors they are about to face.

"It's okay, I'm right here Katniss. It's going to be okay," I say, but she just stares blankly at my face.

"She can't hear you." I ignore Johanna.

Something happens on the other side, because Finnick curls in on himself, laying on the ground. It looks like he's covering his ears and shaking his head, trying to block whatever he is hearing. Katniss pulls out her arrows and shoots down some of the birds, but I can see that there are many more perched in the trees around the two of them. Katniss takes the same stance as Finnick, curled up and shaking. I bang on the wall again.

"Let me in, damn it!" I shout, but of course it does nothing to change the minds of the Gamemakers. I sit on the ground and wait, gazing at Katniss. There's nothing else I can possibly do. I feel so helpless, sitting here and watching Katniss suffer. It feels like an eternity, but there's a shift in the air in front of me. I reach out tentatively, and my arm goes straight through where the wall had been.

I rush over and slide my arms under Katniss' body, lifting her up and carrying her away from the jungle and the horrors that it hides. She doesn't move, or relax. She stays rigid, her hands clamped over her ears. I sit down and pull her into my lap, speaking to her softly and rocking back and forth, until her muscles start to relax. She begins to tremble instead.

"It's all right, Katniss," I whisper.

"You didn't hear them."

"I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn't her, it was a jabberjay." I try to reassure her.

"It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it," she murmurs.

"No, that's what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying." I tell her softly, but she shakes her head.

"No, they were torturing her. She's probably dead." Could she be? I doubt for a millisecond, but realise if they do kill Prim, then who will they interview?

"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?"

"Seven more us die," she answers miserably.

"No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?"I lift her chin gently with my finger, forcing her to look me in the eyes. "What happens? At the final eight?" I coax the answer from her.

"At the final eight?" it takes her a moment. "They interview your family and friends back home."

"That's right. They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

"No?" She makes it a question, still uncertain. Those jabberjays must certainly have been very convincing.

"No. That's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she?" I ask, and she doesn't answer. "First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge. It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the only ones in the Games. Not them."

"You really believe that?" I think she sounds a little hopeful, wanting badly to believe me.

"I really do." She still doesn't seem sure. Her eyes flicker across to Finnick, who is watching the both of us.

"Do you believe it, Finnick?" she asks him.

"It could be true. I don't know. Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it..."

"Oh, yes," Beetee answers right away. "It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school."

"Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss' little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands." Johanna says. "Don't want that, do they?" Suddenly, she's shouting. "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!" She shouts to the sky, and I stare at her in shock. Nobody ever speaks that way about the Games or the Capitol, not publicly. No doubt they've already cut from Johanna, and edited away her words. She picks up some shells and heads towards the jungle, deciding the get some water.

Katniss catches her hand, trying to stop her. "Don't go in there. The birds-" She doesn't finish, and I realise these birds really have riled her. I wonder how quick I would have been to give in to the torture.

"They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love," Johanna replies flatly, shaking her hand free. I stare after her, wondering if that could possibly be true. She does seem very cold, almost unfeeling. But surely, there must be someone in her life that she fights for.

The others busy themselves with small tasks, but Katniss stays with me in my arms, perhaps still a little shaken from her time in the jungle. I can't say that I mind all that much.

"Who did they use against Finnick?" I ask her quietly, so that Finnick doesn't overhear.

"Somebody named Annie."

"Must be Annie Cresta," I say, thinking of the mad girl who Mags had volunteered for.

"Who?" Katniss frowns.

"Annie Cresta. She was the girl Mags volunteered for. She won about five years ago."

"I don't remember those games much," Katniss says distantly. "Was that the earthquake year?"

"Yeah. Annie's the one who went mad when her district partner got beheaded. Ran off by herself and hid. But an earthquake broke a dam and most of the arena got flooded. She won because she was the best swimmer," I explain, thinking I may have watched those tapes a few too many times.

"Did she get better after? I mean, her mind?"

"I don't know. I don't remember ever seeing her at the Games again. But she didn't look too stable during the Reaping this year." Had the Capitol hidden her away? Not wanting the country to see the effect the Games can have on somebody? I wonder about Annie Cresta being used against Finnick, and remember the poem he had read about the one girl he really loved.

A canon breaks through my thoughts, and everybody returns to the beach. A hovercraft appears, but the claw has to lower five times to collect the remnants of one body. There's no way of being able to identify that body until they show their face later on. I make a mental note to stay far away from that area.

I draw a new map, not sure where the other one had been lost. I add in the jabberjays, and simply put 'beast' for where the latest victim had fallen.

After some while, the anthem plays and we all watch the faces that float over the sky. Whilst we are remembering the tributes who are left, a parachute sails down with a pile of bread. I recognise the bread as that of District Three. We decide to have three each, and will figure out what to do with the leftovers in the morning. After the weave crashes down in the ten-to-eleven section, we make our way there in the hopes that it should give us twelve hours of safety. When we have settled in to a camp, there's some disagreement over who should keep watch, but it ends up being Katniss and I. I'm glad for it, because I'm certain we have a lot to talk about.


	15. Chapter 15

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Sorry it took so long! Internet died and stuff, so almost didn't get this chapter up at all! _

_Also what I will be doing sometime soon - picking out a few people to Beta Read the first chapter of Mockingjay in Peeta's Point of View! I've been throwing together an idea for a first chapter, but want some ideas on what it's like before I publish it, and get some constructive criticisms perhaps. So let me know if you'd like to take part in that!_

_Remember! If you want to Beta Read, I have to be able to message you etc, so you will need to comment with a profile that I can reply to. _

Chapter Fifteen

We sit facing away from one another, with our shoulders and hips pressed together. I watch the jungle, because I'm not sure Katniss is able to do this without reliving her nightmares, whilst Katniss keeps an eye on the water. I sit and wonder when the right moment to present the locket to her might be, to remind her that she has people she needs to fight for. Katniss lets her head fall back to rest against my shoulder, and I stroke her hair gently.

"Katniss," I say quietly. "It's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do." I remember Haymitch not answering me, but almost admitting to Katniss trying to protect me. "I don't know what kind of deal you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well." Promises to both of us, but he can't save us both this time. "So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us." Katniss lifts her head to meet my gaze.

"Why are you saying this now?" she asks me.

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are." I think of my family back in District Twelve. My father and mother, who have each other in their own way. My brother Lukail, who will soon be creating a family of his own, and Gareth, surrounded by friends and idolised by my mother. They may mourn for a while after I'm gone, but their lives will go on. I am not essential to their survival. "If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," I tell her earnestly. "I would never be happy again." It's true. I cannot imagine a life in which Katniss does not exist. If she were to die, there would be nobody who could make me happy again. But if I were to die, Gale would be waiting with open arms to help Katniss piece her life back together again. Katniss opens her mouth to protest, but I press my finger to her lips. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

I don't mention his name, but I'm sure she knows who I mean. I reach up and pull the chain from around my neck, holding it out so Katniss can see it. I slide my thumb against the catch, causing it to spring open and reveal the pictures inside. "Your family needs you, Katniss," I say quietly. "No one really needs me," I carry on, my voice matter of fact.

"I do," she suddenly says. "I need you." I falter for a moment, have to take a deep breath to stop myself from welling up. She had said it was all for the Games, not directly, but it had been implied. She can't take that back now, can't make me uncertain like this. I'm about to carry on with my speech, but her lips are on mine. I try to pull away, needing to tell her, to remind her that she must go home, but she is persistent. I finally give in to the kiss, the warmth of her lips. My arms snake around her, pulling her closer to me, and it's the first time I want more of her. There have been plenty of kisses, but not many of them had felt as real as this one. It leaves me even more uncertain than before, and I can no longer determine how much love Katniss might have for me.

The crack of thunder and flash of lightning remind us where we are. It jolts Finnick awake, who cries out and jumps into a sitting position.

"I can't sleep any more, one of you should rest." He pauses, noticing our embrace. "Or both of you. I can watch alone." I think of lying down with Katniss, just for a while, but shake my head.

"It's too dangerous. I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I say. For once, Katniss doesn't object. I take her hand and lead her to where the other lay down, placing the chain with the locket around her neck. For a moment, I'm saddened by the thought of our pretend baby, and how she will most likely have a real one with Gale. As long as I can get her out of here alive. I place my hand against her stomach gently, mostly for the audience. "You're going to make a great mother, you know." I tell her honestly, and kiss her again before returning to Finnick.

Finnick and I sit in silence the entire night. Our thoughts are not in the arena, but they are not thoughts that we can share lightly with one another. I wonder if Finnick is thinking about Annie, if she might be the one girl he really loves. I try to put myself in his situation; in love with a mad girl and forced to sleep around with Capitol citizens. It makes me shudder, and I have to wonder how he does it. The thought of touching those people makes me feel ill, and I certainly couldn't get as close to them as Finnick does. Perhaps some of them aren't so bad, even decent human beings. But I can only think of them as the people who like to watch children fight to the death.

During the night, my gaze often flickers to Katniss' sleeping form. I imagine what her life could be like, if we get rid of the other contenders, and then Katniss is crowned the Victor. Would President Snow allow her to live, after believing she had sparked the rebellion? What if he kills her sister and mother, like what I'm sure he had done to Haymitch? Or perhaps Gale? Perhaps he might keep them all alive, to prevent the possibility of an extra spark of rebellion. There's no way to predict what might happen if Katniss walks out of this arena, but it is the only outcome I will allow.

Everyone but Katniss wakes up early, although nobody bothers her. Everybody finds something to do, and I busy myself for a while by examining my fake leg. I hadn't thought much about it since arriving into the arena, but I'm not sure what the effect might be if too muich sand were to get trapped in parts of it. I check it thoroughly, wiping at any corners that are filled with sand, until it's fully clean. I cover it up again and take a glance at the others. Katniss is still sleeping, Johanna and Finnick are talking rather intensely and Beetee … Beetee is staring at his coil of wire, and murmuring to himself. I wander over.

When I get in earshot, I notice he's murmuring about wire, lightning, and electricity. Obviously he has some idea to do with his wire, and lightning – lightning would be the one that hits the tree. "Hey Beetee, what you thinking about there?" I ask, with a slight frown.

"Wrap the wire around the tree, use the lightning for electricity, it could work." I'm still not sure what he's talking about.

A parachute distracts everyone and we gather around to see what's inside. Katniss wakes up just before it hits the ground, and in time for us to divide the bread that Beetee's district has sent again. When we're finished eating, Katniss takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, dragging me down to the water. "Come on. I'll teach you how to swim," she says.

I wade into the water waist height, and Katniss teaches me some basic movements, making me practice them by swimming back and forth. I find that it really isn't difficult at all, although I'm not sure what use the skill is now that we all keep to the land. After some time, Katniss calls me over to the shore and shows me that scrubbing sand across my skin will get rid of the scabs and leave new skin underneath. Whilst in the midst of this, she starts talking quietly, her head down and away from where the others are.

"Look, the pool is down to eight. I think it's time we took off." I nod my head slowly, thinking what our chances might be if we were take off on our own. At least we now know where the sections are around the arena, but there are still three strong Tributes out there somewhere. I'm not sure how well we would fare if it came to a fight between Brutus and Enobaria together.

"Tell you what. Let's stick around until Brutus and Enobaria are dead. I think Beetee's trying to put together some kind of trap for them now. Then, I promise, we'll go." I bargain with her. I'm not entirely certain this is what Beetee is up to, but I'm not sure why else he would be thinking about electricity and his wire.

"All right," Katniss finally says. "We'll stay until the Careers are dead. But that's the end of it." She turns and waves over to the others. "Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!" She calls.

The three of us scrub our skins raw, until they're a bright pink and there are no scabs left. Katniss makes us apply some more of the lotion that turns our skin green, and I think how I could use this to hide in the trees. Perhaps if I add more, the shade of the green will differ... Beetee calls everyone over. It turns out I was right about him coming up with a plan to kill Brutus and Enobaria. We decide that the two Careers might have come up with the same conclusion about the arena as we have, or near enough. And that we shouldn't track them or wait for them, but set up a trap. Finnick stops Beetee to go and wake Johanna up, who had laid down for a nap. She joins us, and Beetee begins drawing a quick sketch of the arena in the sand.

"If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" He asks us.

"Where we are now. On the beach," I answer. "It's the safest place."

"So why aren't they on the beach?" He asks, and he reminds me of a school teacher, coaxing answers from his school children.

"Because we're here," Johanna says, sounding as if she wished he would get to the point.

"Exactly. We're here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?"

"I'd hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us." Katniss says.

"Also to eat," Finnick adds. "The jungle's full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I'd know the seafood's safe." Beetee grins up at us.

"Yes, good. You do see. Now here's what I propose: a twelve o'clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and midnight?"

"The lightning bolt hits the tree."

"Yes. So what I'm suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at mignight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the salt water, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o'clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted." It's a possibly good plan, if it works, and I'm awed for a moment by just how smart Beetee is. I think of what might go wrong, and Beetee's wire is the first thing I think of. It's such a thin, delicate coil of wire.

"Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up."

"Oh, it will." He reassures me. "But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it."

"How do you know?" Johanna asks him suspiciously.

"Because I invented it," Beetee says. "It's not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning, nor the tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn't it?"

"Yes." She's almost reluctant to admit it.

"Don't worry about the wire – it will do just what I say."

"And where will we be when this happens?" Finnick raises a good point.

"Far enough up in the jungle to be safe."

"The Careers will be safe, too, then, unless they're in the vicinity of the water." Katniss says.

"That's right."

"But all the seafood will be cooked," I try and lighten the mood. At least if it fails, we'll have some food.

"Probably more than cooked," Beetee dashes my hopes. "We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss?" He looks at her, and she nods her head in response.

"Yes. Nuts and rats. And we have sponsors."

"Well, then. I don't see that as a problem. But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt is up to you four." _Allies. _But for how long? The four of us exchange glances. Beetee is by far the smartest of us all, and he's the best person to decide if a plan like this might work.

"Why not?" Katniss shrugs. "It if fails, there's no harm done. If it works, there's a decent chance we'll kill them. And even if we don't and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too." Katniss points out to us. It's true. Trying out the plan won't effect us greatly in any way.

"I say we try it," I decide. "Katniss is right." Finnick looks to Johanna, raises his eyebrows.

"All right," Johanna sighs. "It's better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they'll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves."

It's around nine in the morning, and Beetee wants to inspect the lightning before we set up the trap. That gives us about three hours to get up there, and find a safe distance. We break camp and head to the lightning section of the beach, then walking up into the jungle. Finnick and I have to take turns carrying Beetee on our backs, because he can't walk fully by himself. It's not much of a struggle with the two of us to alternate, and we make it up fairly easily. When we draw closer, Finnick decides that Katniss should take up the lead instead of Johanna.

"Katniss can hear the forcefield," Finnick explains to our two new members.

"Hear it?" Beetee asks.

"Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed," Katniss says.

"Then by all means, let Katniss go first. Forcefields are nothing to play around with," he says, wiping his glasses. The tree towers above the others, so it's not hard to point out. We all stop for a moment so that Katniss can go ahead to determine the reach of the forcefield. She calls out, warning us to stay below the large tree.

We all have our tasks to do; Finnick guards Beetee, Johanna taps for water, I gather up nuts, and Katniss hunts for some more of the tree rats. I gather up a few handfuls, and Katniss returns with three tree rats, so we sit down to cook them all. Beetee snaps off some of the bark and joins us, throwing it at the forcefield. We watch the bark bounce back and sit on the ground, glowing for a few moments and going back to the original colour. "Well, that explains a lot," Beetee murmurs. I raise an eyebrow, and Katniss and I look at one another. I fight the twitch of a smile on my lips, because it explains absolutely nothing to the rest of us.

In the next section of jungle, the clicking sound of strange insects rise. We had heard it the night before, but it's a lot louder here than on the beach.

"It's not mechanical," Beetee says.

"I'd guess insects. Maybe beetles," Katniss says thoughtfully.

"Something with pincers," Finnick adds in. The clicking becomes louder, perhaps alerted to our presence. It's unnerving, and I wonder if the insects are likely to stay in their own section.

"We should get out of here, anyway. There's less than an hour before the lightning starts." Johanna decides. We only go over to the next section of the blood rain, eating our food and waiting for the lightning. Beetee requests that Katniss goes up into the trees for a better view, and she scampers up whilst the rest of us try to watch from the ground. We don't see much from our point, and have to wait until Katniss returns to tell Beetee about the dazzling light, and how the tree glowed brightly, even in the daylight. Beetee seems satisfied, but none of us know what it means.

We make our way back to the ten o'clock section, and Beetee allows us some free time whilst he messes around with his wire. We all try to take turns napping, but it isn't long before we're wide awake, unable to sleep. So instead, we decide to have a feast of seafood. We all dive for oysters. I enjoy the feeling of being under the clear water, gathering up the oyster shells from the seabed, watching the colourful fish that swim past us. I'm still a little uncertain with my swimming, so I don't linger under the water longer than necessary.

On the beach Finnick, Katniss and I start to clean and lay out the food whilst Johanna keeps watch. I pull apart the shell of one oyster, peeking inside for the meat. What I find instead is a perfect, white pearl. I begin to laugh, picking out the pea sized pearl and holding it up for the others to see.

"Hey, look at this!" I laugh again. I remember Effie telling us once that with enough pressure, coal can be turned into pearls. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls," I tell Finnick.

"No, it doesn't," he says, but suddenly Katniss starts to laugh as well. I wash the pearl in the water and wander over to Katniss, holding it out to her. "For you," I say. Katniss holds the pearl in her palm.

"Thanks," she finally says and lifts her eyes to mine. There's something in her grey eyes, and my expression drops. I hold her intense gaze.

"The locket didn't work, did it?" I ask, not worried about the others being able to hear me. She doesn't answer. "Katniss?"

"It worked," she says simply.

"But not the way I wanted it to," my eyes flicker away to the water, down to the oysters, anywhere but those grey eyes. We all sit down to eat, and another parachute appears with some red sauce and more bread rolls. When we've filled ourselves with food, Katniss and I sit by the water with our hands clasped together, not saying a word. I'm not sure what to say to her. What else can I say that will change her mind? She's become my opponent now, in a twisted kind of way. She is determined to keep me alive, and I am trying to make sure that she makes it out of the arena.

Now all we can do it wait to see if Beetee's plan will work, and after that I must find some way to convince Katniss she needs to stay alive.


	16. Chapter 16

**Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View**

_Ohwow guys! I didn't realise this was going to be the last chapter! Not until I actually started writing it, haha. But I guess that's what happens when each chapter is five pages long! _

_So, the last chapter of Catching Fire! _

_I have my Beta Readers ready! So they will be giving me feedback when I get the first chapter sorted. This may take me a little longer than with Catching Fire, because I have to piece together all the little things that are mentioned about Peeta's time in captivity. I'll try not to take too long! _

_Also, I will be looking for a new Beta Reader for my Mockingjay fanfic! You will have to be quick at replies, because my readers and I are impatient! So let me know if you'd be interested. _

Chapter Sixteen

Whilst the rest of us stand guard, Beetee and Finnick wrap the wire around the trunk of the tree, over and over again. I wonder if the wire has to be wrapped around it in a particular way, but I'm not sure what a pattern might have to do with Beetee's trap. Then again, I know next to nothing about electricity. When they've finished this and the wave crashes down in the ten-to-eleven section, Beetee lets us know what the rest of the plan is. He wants Johanna and Katniss to take the coil down through the jungle, to unwind it and lay it across the ten o'clock beach, and drop it deep in the water. He wants them to go now, go quickly, in order for them to make it to safety.

"I want to go with them as a guard," I say straight away, not liking Katniss going off with Johanna alone. I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone. I need to keep her safe, but she is expecting to die. I cannot let that happen.

"You're too slow," Beetee points out." Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss will guard." But what if Johanna catches her off guard? "There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are the get out of there alive, they need to move now." Johanna takes the coil from him. I don't want to do it. I'm about to refuse, make Finnick go down there with Katniss, but she turns to me.

"It's okay," Katniss says. "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up." She tries to reassure me.

"Not into the lightning zone," Beetee cuts in. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage." Katniss takes my face in her hands, and I stare into those grey eyes.

"Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight." I can't leave her, let her leave me. We need to stick together. She kisses me, cutting off any objections I might think of. She's turning away, leaving with Johanna.

I don't speak to the others, and I don't even know what they're doing. I keep my eyes on the trees, where Johanna and Katniss had disappeared. They've gone, and I won't be able to stay here for much longer. The clicking starts in the next section, and I know that it's after eleven now.

After some time, I notice that the wire is not tight, like when Katniss and Johanna has set off, pulling it. It's swinging a little. "Beetee, should the wire be this loose?" I ask. He comes over to examine it, stopping and frowning for a long time.

"No." He finally decides. He looks up at Finnick, who looks worried now.

"Should we go down to see what happened?" I flick my gaze between the two of them. There hasn't been a canon, so I know that she is still alive, but that doesn't mean she isn't in danger. "Peeta, I need your knife." I frown.

"What for?" I ask, tightening my grip on it. Beetee tuts and shakes his head.

"Really, you think I'm going to use it to kill you? I'm old, Peeta, and weak. You would have the advantage. It would be foolish for me to try." He reasons, and I know he's right. I cannot help but be suspicious. Finally, I drop it into his open palm. He returns to the tree and picks up a second, smaller length of wire. I watch curiously. He wraps the end of the wire around the metal knife, and I don't understand.

"What are you doing? Why aren't we going after Katniss and Johanna?"

"Don't worry about it, Peeta." Finnick cuts in, and I frown, glancing between the two of them. Something isn't right. This wasn't part of the plan, there was no mention of this.

"I will worry about it. Tell me what the two of you are doing," I insist. They exchange a glance, and I step back, away from them. They're planning something else, not just the trap for Brutus and Enobaria. Who else is in on this plan? Johanna? A sinking feeling settles in my gut. Beetee insisted Johanna go off with Katniss. I turn and sprint into the trees, in the direction I think the two of them had gone. Johanna would have no problem with an order to kill Katniss, part of me thinks she would even enjoy it.

"Peeta! Wait, Peeta!" Finnick chases me for a little while, but Beetee's voice makes him go running back to the tree. I keep running, but after a few minutes I realise that I'm lost, I had got turned around somewhere. The clicking of the insects in the next section keeps me aware of where not to go, so I try heading back to the lightning tree. I collide into a body, and we both stumble back, but I catch my fake leg on something and fall backwards. This is it, the person will kill me. I have to hope Katniss can handle everybody else.

"Peeta! Oh, thank God." I frown up at Chaff, who is grinning down at me. He extends his hand and I take it hesitantly, not sure if I can trust him. "I've been searching for you and Katniss, but this jungle – there are terrible things in here." He looks beaten and bloody, with a few cuts in various places on his body. It looks like he's been using moss on the wounds, just like Katniss has been doing.

"Why are you looking for us? What's going on?" He glances around, looks up at the sky, and into the trees.

"Just because. Look, where is she? And the others? Do you have other allies?" He asks me urgently.

"Y-yes, I think. Well, we did. Beetee, Finnick and Johanna. But we were setting a trap up for Brutus and Enobaria, and Beetee is doing something else. I think something has happened to Katniss – I don't know. I don't know what's going on." I start to panic, tugging at my hair and stepping back and forth. What if I can't find her? Or if she's dying somewhere?

"Okay, okay. Calm down. We need to go find them all, it'll be okay."

"Brutus and Enobaria are around here somewhere, we need to be careful." I tell him.

"I'm right here," a voice makes us both spin around. Brutus is grinning at us maliciously, with a hungry glint in his eyes. Chaff steps in front of me, squaring up to Brutus with an axe in his hand. I barely have time to take a breath before Brutus is charging, and Chaff jumps forward to meet him.

I watch them fighting, wondering what I can do to help Chaff. I have no weapon to speak of, if I jump in now I'm likely to get wounded by either one of them. Chaff is at an obvious disadvantage; he's already wounded and it has left him slow and unsteady. He does well to fend off Brutus' blows, but each one sends him back a little more, and he's wincing in pain. The fight doesn't last long. One good swing from Brutus, a slight stumble from Chaff, and the blade of Brutus' spear goes straight into Chaff's neck. A noise escapes me involuntarily, some kind of shock.

The canon fires, and Chaff falls to the ground, spear still in him. I shout a cry of rage and charge forward, picking Chaff's axe from the ground. Brutus is trying to pull his spear from Chaff, but he is too slow, and he looks up in shock, just as the blade of the axe hits him in the stomach. He takes a couple steps back, and coughs. I should finish him off, ease his suffering. Instead, I leave him and turn to run in search of Katniss.

"Katniss!" I shout, making my way back towards the lightning section. She's likely to be over there somewhere if things had gone wrong. Perhaps she's looking for me. "Katniss!" I shout again. The others might be able to hear me, but at least it will draw them away from Katniss. If I keep shouting, then they'll come looking for me, to finish me off. If I can take down a few of them, then Katniss has a better chance of fighting her way out.

"Peeta!" She screams back, and her voice comes from near the lightning tree. She's ruining my plan. If they had a choice between the two of us, the others are likely to head for Katniss. She's the important kill. "I'm here! Peeta!" she continues screaming, and I run in her direction. I run straight and as fast as I can, being careful of the vines that pattern the ground, or the bushes that try to trip me up. I'm still too far away, I won't make it to her quick enough. Everyone else will find her before I do. She screams again, still from the same place. She's not running, so I know that she's trying to draw the others to her. I keep running, and a canon booms.

"Katniss!" I scream this time, my heart pounding against my chest. I know that it is a canon for Brutus, who has finally died. I regret leaving him to suffer for so long, but I can only think of one person's survival. I continue running and she still doesn't answer. A branch whips me in the face, I stumble over a tree root but manage to catch my balance.

There's suddenly a burst of blue, dazzling light across the domed sky of the arena. It's so unusual, that I stop in my tracks and stare up at it. There's something raining down on us, although I can't tell what it is. An explosion knocks me off my feet. I hit my head on something, and the world goes dark.

I open my eyes, having to squint against the white light above me. It smells sterile, and there are wires tracing along my arms, running into the white wall behind me. I know where I am in an instant. I have been here before. A hospital room in the Capitol. This means that the Games have finished. But if I am here, then what does that mean for the others? My stomach drops at the ideas running through my head. Dead? No. they can't be. I refuse to believe that she is dead. I will never believe this without seeing it with my own eyes.

I try to think back to the last thing I remember, the last night of the arena. Things had got confusing. Beetee and Finnick with a plan of their own. Running off to find Katniss. Finding Chaff instead. Brutus. I stop, my mind lingering on Brutus. I had killed him, taken his life with the swing of an axe. It makes me feel … numb, drained. I remember Katniss shouting for me, telling me where she was. Running, running … A blue light had flashed across the arena. What on earth had that been? After that, an explosion. I must have been knocked unconscious.

The door behind me slides open, so quietly I almost don't hear it. I turn my head to look at the girl who walks in with a tray of food and a conserved, straight face. She sweeps into the room and places the tray of food on a table that I hadn't noticed.

"Am I in the Capitol?" I croak, and she nods subtly and quickly, not looking at me.

"Where's Katniss? Is she alive?" No response, and she still refuses to look at me. "Please, is she alive?" I ask again, but still nothing. My heart hammers against my chest, and the thoughts race through my head before I can stop them.

The woman picks up a bowl of beef stew and holds it out to me. I stare at it in confusion, because shouldn't they be feeding me unappetising slop? I stare at it, thinking only of Katniss, and how she had loved that stew. My frustration of not knowing or getting an answer, my fears for Katniss' life boil over into anger and suddenly, my hand shoots out, sending the bowl across the room. Stew stains the white walls. I grip the woman's arm tighter than I had planned. She looks at me in fear.

"Where is Katniss?" I shout at her. "Tell me! Tell me where she is!" the woman is shaking her head, staring at me wide-eyed. The term Avox manages to break through my fears for Katniss. I open my mouth to apologise to her, but it is too late. She is being ushered through the door, and someone else stands in her place.

President Snow glares down at me, and I find myself filled with rage. Why is he here? Where is Katniss? I reach out to grab President Snow, but he steps back. Two other men come into the room and each of them grab an arm, yanking me back down onto the lightly padded bed. The shock and confusion of this intrusion has me thrashing against their grip, trying to pull my arms from their strong hands. They're strapping my arms down to the bed, and then a large strap crushes down on my chest.

"Where is she?" I yell at President Snow. "Tell me where she is!" Tears spring to my eyes, and I'm not sure if they are from rage or fear. She isn't dead. She can't be dead. "Please," my voice breaks, but Snow's expression doesn't change. Something cold seeps into my veins from one of the tubes. A sedative. They are keeping me alive for some reason. The darkness begins to close around my mind, but not before I hear one last thing from President Snow.

"Katniss isn't here, Peeta. She left you behind."

**End.**

_And that's the end of Catching Fire! Only sixteen chapters, wow. Should be getting Mockingjay up and running in the next few days._

_So look out for _The View of A Hijacked Boy_!_


End file.
